


Waking William

by felisblanco



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-05
Updated: 2004-02-05
Packaged: 2018-10-20 04:16:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 50,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10654722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: Post Buffy Season 6 and AtS S3x1. Spike, the soul boy, makes his way to L.A.  Parts marked with a star (*) are the thoughts of Spike’s demon





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cordelia is still missing, Lorne’s in Las Vegas, but willingly, not hold hostage. Wesley keeps his distance.
> 
> Thanks to my wonderful beta Butterscotch who did most of the work of betaing and Poison who did the final touch.

SPIKE’S POV

Please, please, just stop. No more, please no more. Just let me go. No more, no more. Jus’ leave me alone, wasn’t hurting you, can’t hurt anyone, not anymore. Do I deserve this? Is this my reward? Did this to so many, so many. Christ, Buffy, oh God, Buffy, Buffy… Is this to make me know how they felt? I get it now, I get the… the… despair an’ longing for death. An’ I wanted it ‘cause it made the blood so sweet, so sweet. So sorry, I’m so sorry.  
  
Have they stopped? Hurt, so hurt, can’t feel if that filthy bugger is gone or if he’s still pounding into me. Can hear ‘em talking. Voices seeping through the ringing in my ears. No more fun, looks dead, get rid of him. Someone’s coming, can’t see ‘cause my eyes are swollen shut. Aargh!! Cold steel in my heart, it hurts, it hurts, but it doesn’t kill. Mingles in with the rest of the pain.  
…  
…  
Guess I blacked out for a bit there. Lying in stinky water. Sewers. Well, not somewhere out in the open, hey? Didn’t want anyone to find me too soon, the bastards. No, not me, my body, ‘cause they think I’m dead, sure. Don’t know what I am. Stupid humans with shit for brains. Should try to drag myself along the bottom… okay, pain’s fading…Yeah, okay, passing out. Hope there’s no vampire-eating vermin about...

 

 

ANGEL’S POV

The dream was so vivid it was like I was living it through someone’s eyes, feeling his pain. And through the smell of filth there was a familiar smell of … something. I just can’t pinpoint what it was. Bugs the hell out of me. I lie still getting the feel for the house. Two heartbeats; Fred’s fluttering butterfly wings, Gunn’s deep drum. Still in the room upstairs. There’s a glass by my bed, cold blood. Better drink it fast.

Maybe I should try to get up and go downstairs. I’ve been lying here for two days now. I just wish they’d stop acting as if everything’s okay, as if my son didn’t try to trap me for eternity in a box at the bottom of the ocean, as if Cordy isn’t missing, presumed dead, as if one of the few friends I had isn’t sleeping with the enemy. God, I just wish the constant sound of the waves would leave my ears, leave my head. But mostly I just wish that I could sleep without dreams, without this person haunting me.

It started while I was still locked in that steel box. It’s as if someone is calling to me, the pain and the guilt I can feel is so familiar I first thought it was a memory from my early soul years. But gradually I came to realize that this isn’t me at all. In the dreams I can smell his blood and it isn’t mine even though it seems close to me. But the pain and the despair, it’s like I am reliving my past over and over again. I thought it couldn’t get any worse but then the abuse started and, rape, over and over again, I can feel him tear, split, and they beat him senseless while they’re at it. Then the old dreams take over again until he‘s caught again. Always humans, I can hear their heartbeats quickening as they are getting their release. And it has been going on like this for so long, at least two months.

Somehow it’s like he’s getting nearer to me and in the two nights since Wesley dragged me out of the ocean I can feel him pulling at my blood, trying to will me to him. I wish I wasn’t so damn weak. The short supply of human blood was soon gone and the pigs’ blood just isn’t enough. I’m just too embarrassed to tell them that. Because then they might notice how I’m listening to the blood pulsing through their veins, how the effort of keeping my human mask is almost too much, how the smell of Fred’s menstrual blood is driving me off the edge. God, just the thought of it makes my eyes yellow and my fangs peak out. Sleep is creeping in on me again. I just hope it will be empty.

SPIKE’S POV

***Bright. Everything’s so bright. What kind of hell is this? Thought it would be dark an’ red an’ hot like… well, like hell, really. Perhaps this isn’t hell. Perhaps this is where the bleeding soul was while I wasn’t using it. Well, if this is heaven it’s bloody disappointing, …No angels, no sodding harps… Can I say sodding in heaven?*  
** …  
…  
*Okay, no lightning yet so I guess it’s all right. Let’s try again, just for the fun of it.* 

***Bleeding hell…*  
** …  
*Christ on a bike…*  
…  
*Right, either no one is listening or they just don’t give a rat’s arse. Hmmm. Could probably ruin some kiddies’ upbringing by telling ‘em that.* 

***Why did I say that? Aren’t I supposed to be all soulhaving an’ remorseful now? Did I loose it again? I’m just feeling very evil an’ very much in need for some serious fun of the shred-you-too-pieces, drink-you-dry variety. What’s up with that? Bugger, I sound like the whelp now. Really need to meet some new people. Some evil ready-to-make-mayhem guys. Wonder how long I’m gonna be here? *  
** …  
…  
*Ok, now I’m just bored. Just white, white an’ some more sodding white. Crap. To top it off I’m non-corporal, can’t even wank to pass the time. No hands, no pecker. Fuck. No, can’t even do that. If ever there was need for a drink.*  
…  
…  
*Okay, I get it now, I’m stuck here. Well, cheers mate, thank you ever so fucking much. You just go get yourself that bleeding soul an’ now I’m stuck in it, me, the real me, the demon, the fucking Big Bad. Well for how fucking long? Couldn’t you even put some sodding happiness clause in? ‘Cause I know you’d never be able to stay away for a good shag for too long. So I’m just stuck. An’ there’s bugger all I can do about it. Well, we’ll see. I’ll find away to get rid of that soul. You just give me some time an’ I’ll put you on such a roller coaster ride of fun old memories that you’ll be begging me to come out again, just to make that wimpy soul stop bleeding.*  
…  
…  
*God this is boring. Can’t you just bloody wake up?*  
…  
…  
*White, white, white, white…*  
…  
…  
*“It gets so lonely being evil…” Yeah you said it mate. Of course it’s lonely when you’re stuck inside you’re own bleedin’ head.*  
…  
…  
*White, white, white, more white, an’ some more white, an’ some more wh…*  
…  
… 

***WAKE UP!!!***

…  
God, the pain. Breathe, breathe!! Sewer filth fills my mouth. Turn my head, cough it up. Must get up, must… Can’t, the pain, right leg’s broken, can’t hold my weight. Yeah, what weight, thin like a bloody skeleton, I am. Probably look like Buffy without her makeup. Yeah, ha, ha. Not even funny in my own head an’ just the thought of her… ‘k’, crying again. Christ, wish she were here ‘cause she’d never leave a defenceless bastard like this. But this bastard tried to…no, don’t go there, never go there. No, don’t want her to see me ever again. Can’t have her looking at this filthy disgusting thing. Can’t have her knowing what I am now, a bleeding fuck toy for humans, someone to be used an’ cast away.

***Well wasn’t that what you were anyway, to her?***

What? Who said that? Who’s there?

***There? I’m not there, I’m here, you snivelling wimp. Stop that bloody whining. ‘Tis making my head hurt. Or rather, OUR head hurt, Wiilliiiaaaam.***

What? No, it can’t be?

***Thought you get rid of me jus’ by getting yourself a pathetic soul, didn't ya. Not that easy, mate. Now, I admit I got a bit wonky when you pulled that rotten stunt in Africa. Took me a while to get my senses again. Anyway, I guess by now you’re getting pretty sick of being holy. So why don’t just let me out to play?***

NO!! SHUT!! UP!! Get out of my noggin, ‘tis mine an’ there’s no room in here for all these voices an’ faces an’ ear splitting cries an’ the begging an’ the screaming, why please can’t you stop screaming? All my former victims, so many, so many, screaming their despair an’ fear an’ agony all at once an’ why doesn’t my head explode? Please just let it explode, ‘cause I can’t take this anymore…  
…

Think I passed out for some time. Feel a bit better now, though. Feels like some of the wounds have started to heal, the shallow ones at least. Right, have to crawl through the sewers. Don’t really know where I’m going but ‘tis like something or someone’s calling me. I guess I’ll head that way, not far now. The sun will be setting soon, creatures of the night will be waking up. I better be out of here before they do. Blood’s seeping all over, leaving a trail, not good, not good. Must go on. Not so far now…  
…  
…  
ANGEL’S POV

This time I’m alone. Not a single heartbeat in the hotel. There’s a glass of fresh blood next to me. Someone, probably Fred, came into my room while I was sleeping. I just hope I didn’t flash my fangs at the smell of her blood. I sit up and drink slowly, feeling a bit nauseous after my dream. Okay then. Up on my feet, wait until the room stops swaying and put on the sweats lying on the chair next to the bed. Hair feels spiky so I guess it’s okay. And now for the big challenge...

Step by step down the stairs to the hotel lobby. I know Fred will be biting my head off for doing this without their help, which is precisely why I waited until they were…

Something is calling, calling for my blood! But I’m not asleep? So strong, like it’s trying to suck it out of my veins. It makes me dizzy and the despair…the despair is swallowing me whole. Whatever this is, it’s obviously very near. Wait…smell of blood…from the lobby...he’s here! Oh God, I know who it is. I should have known sooner. Why didn’t I know? Damn this weakness, I must get to him.

And there on the floor, he lies like a heap of filthy rags. No duster, where’s his duster? Oh Jeez, the stench. He smells like he’s been wading through sewers for weeks. But under the rank smell of shit and piss and, God damn who did this to him, human cum, I can smell the familiar blood, the alcohol and the smokes, even a faint linger of the ever before present leather. I fall down on my knees beside him and turn him over as gently as I can. He’s covered in sewer shit and blood, both old and new, his face cut in several places. It’s so swollen and bruised. Will, who did this to you, what happened, why, why?!? I can almost feel his ribs through the ragged clothes and he’s so light. Marble white skin underneath the bruises and he’s so cold, no blood has warmed his body for a long time. Someone’s standing above us. I morph and flash my fangs. A shocked Fred stands there, frozen in her tracks, her mouth forming a perfect “o”, her face filled with such horror at the sight before her that I quickly change back.  
  
“Blood. Now”

She doesn’t move so I loose my patience and growl at her “Fred. Blood. NOW.” She snaps out of her stupor and runs quickly into the office where the fridge is.

Gunn is coming through the front door. I can feel he is going to lash out at me for talking like that to his precious girl when he looks down and sees the wretched creature I hold in my arms.

“Damn! What happened? Who’s he?”

“Gunn, you have to help me carry him upstairs. Then go out and get some more blood, human, he needs it, I need it, the pigs blood isn’t enough”

“What do you mean, he needs it? Angel, are you telling me he’s a vampire? Why the hell are we helping a vampire? Put him out of his misery, or I can do it if you ain’t feeling up to it.”

Okay, calm down, don’t jump at his throat. “I’ll explain later, but no one is to hurt him,” I say calmly with my teeth clenched.

“No way I’m helping a vam…”

I’m standing up slowly with his incredibly light body in my arms. Calm, look him in the eyes, calm. “This is not just any vampire, this is my Childe and that means he is my family. If you don’t want to help, that’s your call but try to hurt him and I will…”

Whoa, dizzy again. Gunn steadying me and offering to carry Spike upstairs dissolves the argument. But I’m not letting go of my boy so he supports me instead and helps me up every incredibly high step. Why did we never get that elevator fixed?

Finally we’re in my room and I can put him down on the bed. I have to rest, just for a minute. Sitting on the chair, watching him. He lies perfectly still and if it weren’t for the fact that he’s not dust I would think him dead. Fred comes running into the room with my blood. I drink it eagerly. He has to feed but he can’t do it himself.  
  
“Can you please leave us now? Just bring me the other blood as soon as possible.” They nod and walk quietly out but I call to them before they close the door “Thank you, I know you didn’t have to, this is…”

My voice trails off as I stare down on his face and when I look up again, they’re gone. My strength returns with the fresh blood and I stand up. Walk into the bathroom, turn the water on, fill the tub with as hot water as I think he can stand. Blank mind, frozen feelings. The sight of him, it just blocks out everything. Into the bedroom again and slowly, and as carefully as I can, remove his boots and cut off his filthy ragged clothes. As each part of his body becomes more revealed my soul is filled with horror.

There’s no part of him that isn’t covered with bruises or cuts. There are at least five deep slashes in his abdomen, thighs and, God, there is a stabbing wound right into his heart. It is still oozing. I have to get it closed before I do anything else. I tear my wrist and let the blood run into his wound. In a few minutes the heart muscle starts to heal and the wound tightens. I cut off the rest of his clothes. The stench of human cum makes me gag. Yellow eyes glint, pointy teeth grit. What have they done to him? Black balls, ripped penis from being pushed into the gravel when they were… NO, don’t think of that, focus! There will be time for thinking later. And now I have to turn him, gently, gently.

There’s a dent on the back of his head smeared with dried blood. I just hope his brain isn’t damaged. His back is of course bruised and slashed, the buttocks stabbed and his anus…God, who would do such a thing, I don’t care that they’re human, when I find them, and I will, they will die. Slowly.

I ease out the pieces of glass before I turn him over again as gently as I can. I just wish he would make a sound, just any sound, to let me know he’s still in there. Come on, time for a bath. He can’t sit up, I’ll have to get in with him. It feels strange, holding this naked body against mine. I ease down into the hot water with his limp body in my arms. I can feel a brief shudder and that tiny movement makes my heart leap. Gently I sponge his body and the water soon becomes black and stinky. I empty the tub and fill it again. Two more times and he’s finally clean. I stand up slowly and carry him in to the sofa. Okay, now he’s dry and I just have to dress his wounds.

When I let go of him I hear a slight whimper, which breaks my heart at the same time as it fills me with hope. I take the bedspread off and I’m glad that the filth hasn’t seeped through because I want the covers to smell of me. I know that even though we haven’t been on the best of terms for the last hundred years or so, in this state he will probably be soothed by the familiar smell of his Sire. Is that a sigh? I’m not sure. I tuck him in and kiss his forehead. At that moment someone knocks so I put my robe on.

“Come on in, it’s okay”

Fred comes in, slowly as if she’s not quite sure if it’s safe and I feel a stab of guilt for scaring her earlier.

“Listen Fred, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go all feral on you, it was just quite a shock seeing him and then you startled me.”

“It’s okay. I knew you would never hurt me and I told Charles that. He didn’t want to let me up here all by myself. But I know you’d never let anyone in here that wasn’t safe and anyway he doesn’t look like he could hurt anyone, let alone experienced fighters like us. God, he’s so thin! What happened to him? Oh! Did you hurt your wrist?”

“It’s nothing. Thanks for the blood, I’ll explain everything later, please, I just need some time alone with him, he needs to heal”

“Okay, just let me know if there is anything I can do and Charles will help too even though he is a bit grumpy about this whole thing, but I told him…”

Her voice trails off as she makes her way out the door but I’m not really listening anyway. I’m staring at his once so beautiful face, and even if I know his wounds will probably not scar the thought of humans cutting up and beating him makes my blood boil. I run my fingers through his soft curls. No bleach, huh? Well, I like this honey blond color better. Lying there completely still it’s like looking at my Will again after a bad beating by Angelus or Darla, except we never went this far. An immobilized vampire would have been a liability to the family. I stand back watching him and the memories from those times creep in on me…

The smell of salt brings me abruptly back. Tears are running down his cheeks and a heart-stabbing whimper escapes his lips. I put a palm against his face and he calms down a little but he’s still trembling. So I take off my robe and lie down beside him, cradling him in my arms.

SPIKE’S POV

Must have passed out again. Had a nice dream though. No pics but there was a smell of family, the touch of cool hands an’… I could hear Angelus talking to me, calling me his boy an’ lil’ one. He took me in his arms, an’ suddenly there’s warm water an’ a cool body pressing into mine an’ something soft stroking my limbs.  
…  
…  
No more dream, dream’s gone. Real World’s crashing down on me, the Real World of battered faces an’ pleading voices an’ horrible screaming an’ desperate crying. Someone’s weeping. A small girl, no more than twelve, huddling in a corner. I reach for her an’ she looks up at me, ‘cept she isn’t really looking, is she? Hasn’t got any eyes, has she?

***Right, she’s one of the kiddies Dru an’ me met in World War II. She always liked kids, my princess, liked to play with ‘em, not in a nice way though. I remember lying lazily sucking at that little girls wrist while Dru took a spoon an’…***

NO!!! Go away!! Don’t wanna see, please don’t let me see. Can’t close my eyes an’ then she’s looking at me, empty sockets staring, accusing me, condemning me. Crying, crying an’ the terrible red hole’s about to swallow me…  
Cool. Cool hand on my cheek an’ I look up an’ it’s Angel. Must have blacked out ‘cause he’s not in the Real World, right? Cool arms holding me. Home again, finally home again.  
which makes him whimper again. I down two more glasses of blood but this time I scratch my neck and pull him up to me. His instinct soon takes over. ‘Drink, drink little one.’ I’m starting to feel dizzy again when he suddenly releases me and starts sliding down. He’s sunken into deep oblivion so I spoon him in my embrace and slowly I drift into sleep as well.

ANGEL’S POV

I reach for a glass of blood and as soon as I’ve drunk it I slash my wrist and put it to his lips. But he’s too far-gone, nothing goes down, it just runs down his chin. I lick it off before it gets in the sheets. The taste of his skin makes me shudder and I can feel myself hardening. Even after all these years and all the hatred he still has that effect on me. But he needs the blood so I kiss him on the lips, slip my tongue in, make my fangs come out to cut it and then the blood flows slowly into his mouth. After an agonizing long time he finally responds, sucking on my tongue and the act is so erotic that in a few minutes I’m hard as a rock. I let him drink from me until I feel myself getting lightheaded. I don’t want to pass out so I force him to let go,which makes him whimper again. I down two more glasses of blood but this time I scratch my neck and pull him up to me. His instinct soon takes over. ‘Drink, drink little one.’ I’m starting to feel dizzy again when he suddenly releases me and starts sliding down. He’s sunken into deep oblivion so I spoon him in my embrace and slowly I drift into sleep as well.


	2. Chapter 2

SPIKE'S POV

Please, no, can't you just leave me alone? Why're you doing this to me, I can't…I can't take any more. I deserve it all, I know, 'tis just too much. Want to go back to the nice dream with Angel, an' his smell an' his taste an' his touch but he's gone, gone. Can't sense him anywhere. Jus' a dream, this is real, this…agony, this pain. Surrounded by faces; men, women an' little kiddies. 

**Yeah, you old bird, I remember you. You told me I reminded you of your grandson, I smiled, got invited in for tea an'…**

NO, don't wanna see, don't show me…

**Look at that lil' brat, begging for crumpets. Oh yeah, I remember him. 'Come in here, got something neat to show ya.' then following his scent to his home, had his mum for supper an' his lil' baby sis for pudding…**

I know, I know it all, you don't have to show me, bugger off, just please leave me alone. Fading, fading away, but it won't get better. She's coming, she always comes. 

Crouching on the floor, hugging her torn robe to her body, staring at me with scared an' disgusted eyes. Ripping her clothes, hitting her, holding her down, raping her again an' again. Broken, broken bird. Bite an' drink, drink in all her pain an' disgust until she's dead, dead, dead. Blank eyes, cold skin. “Ask me again why I can never love you”. 

I'm sorry, I'm so sorry… Can't stand this anymore, can't take it, why didn't she kill me, please Buffy, kill me, why can't someone kill me, just anybody, please kill me, Angel, kill me…

ANGEL'S POV 

I was only gone for a few minutes. After I changed his bandages, I tried to call Giles at the Magic Shop but apparently he had gone back to England with Willow after she tried to end the world a few months back. Which would have intrigued me if I didn't have more pressing things on my mind. I asked about Spike as casually as I could, if anyone had seen him. The girl got a bit flustered at that and said she wasn't his keeper and it had only been that one quickie (huh?) and anyway I should ask Buffy since she was the one who had been getting groiny with him all last winter (WHAT!!!) Not bothering to say goodbye I lay down the receiver and looked at it in disbelief as I tried to calm down. Injured or not, Spike, my boy, you're in for a real thrashing. 

I took a few unneeded breaths before calling Buffy's number, cringing inwardly since I really didn't want to talk to her right now. Fortunately Dawn answered the phone, Buffy being on patrol. She sounded glad to hear from me until I brought Spike up as unobtrusively as I could. No, they hadn't seen him since he tried to rape Buffy last spring and if I saw him I could tell him that he's not welcome ever again. Without another word I hung up, waited until the white rage eased enough to let me see again and then walked up the stairs as calmly as I could. How could I ever feel sorry for that fucking piece of shit? I can't believe I let him into my home. I walked into the room fully intending to put him out of his misery. Seems misery was an understatement. 

He's crying and moaning in his sleep, caught in a constant tremble. I stand looking down at him. Spike, master vampire, killer, rapist. William the Bloody, my childe, my beloved Will…

No!! Where did that come from? I don't love him. He hates me and I hate him. I just …feel so responsible for him, that's all. I made him so his crimes are in a way my crimes, that's all there is. But I can't kill him in his sleep, can I? Especially not when he looks so vulnerable. He twitches, trapped in his nightmare. Better turn away, he doesn't deserve my sympathy.

“Buffy”

How dare he!! I should just stake him, right now. He's mumbling something, sounds like a chant. Sounds like…and then the words hit me.

“Kill me, please kill me, kill me, Angel, kill me…” 

What!?! Is this why he came? He wants to die and he wants me to kill him? What can have happened to make him want that? And why does it hurt me seeing him like this?

SPIKE'S POV

I don't understand, I can smell him so this should be a nice dream, right? But no touch an' no taste an' why can't he just hold me? He's standing in the shadows, face all shaded. Coming closer …but that's not Angel. That's the smirk of Angelus, not the good old presouled Angelus, the mad demonic Sunnydale Angelus. 

**He knows what ya did to the Slayer, he's gonna top ya.**

No, I've changed my mind. Don't wanna die. Want Angel back. Don't know why, 'tis like he's my only salvation. He'll know what to do, he'll understand, please I just want him back, please Sire, help me, Angelus's coming for me an' this time he won't make do with smashing me up an' buggering me down. Please, Angel, help me…

ANGEL'S POV

Can he sense me in his sleep? He reaches a hand towards me, but abruptly retracts it and curls up into a ball. Fear, he stinks of fear. Then a quiet whisper of “Angelus” filled with dread and despair. He fears me? He really hates and fears me that much? I thought…didn't we…? Should I leave or try to comfort him? Leave, I'd better leave.

“Please, Angel, help me!!” 

His eyes are as open as they can be with all the swelling and he seems to be staring at me but he doesn't see anything, he's totally lost in his nightmare. And all of a sudden it doesn't matter what happened in the past. And Buffy… I just can't think about Buffy right now. My boy needs me, not Angelus, but me. I can't really explain what I am feeling, I just strip and climb in next to him, cradling him in my arms, mumbling soothing words into his ear. Finally the agonizing nightmare subsides, and he falls into deep dreamless sleep.  
...  
...

I'm dreaming of the old days, lying with Will in my arms. It should be nice but something's wrong. I look down and there're just bones with thin, translucent skin stretched over them. We're lying in a sea of blood and the smell is exhilarating. It seems so real that when I wake up it takes me a while to realize why. We are indeed lying in a pool of blood. The reason he seems lighter than last night is because he is. He has ripped the dressing off his chest and clawed at the wound above his heart. Blood's been leaking out of it all night, soaking the bed. He must have been too starved for the healing powers to kick in. 

I jump up and note with horror that the movement doesn't have any effect. He's so emptied that I'm not even sure his brain has enough blood to function anymore. Desperately I shout downstairs for the others, hoping they're there. Within seconds they burst through the door, Gunn swinging his axe, obviously expecting a fight. When they see us they both stop in their tracks and gasp in horror. I hope its his condition and the bloody mess that's the cause because I suddenly realize I'm completely naked. I swiftly grab my sweatpants of the chair and put them on. Fred only glances at me for a fluttering moment before running to the bed. 

“What happened? Where does all this blood come from? What did you do to him?” 

I flinch at her words, partly because she assumes I would hurt him, but mostly because she is right. I did this to him, I didn't take good enough care of him. If he dies, I will have killed one more of my family. I then become conscious of that I'm coated with both dried and wet blood. The smell brings the golden gleam into my eyes and Gunn moves forcefully towards me. I immediately change back and raise a hand to stop him.

“I'm all right, his wounds are just worse than I thought, he seems to be bleeding himself to death.” Even I notice the frantic rise in my voice, so I try to calm down. 

“I need lots of bandages, a sewing kit and after I'm done patching him up he's gonna need plenty of blood, human blood.” I try not to show how worried I am, that even if I fill him up with blood he might be too damaged to ever function again. 

It takes us an hour to stitch him up, wash him and reapply the bandages. Fred cries silently and even Gunn has to turn away a few times. When we get to his lower parts I ask them to leave us. I don't want them to see the cruel evidence of sexual assault, because I know he would feel so humiliated. They oblige but I can see from the look on their faces that they know why I want them gone and Fred starts sobbing more loudly. Gunn puts his arm around her and directs her gently out of the room, turning only to give me a look that says it all. When the time comes to avenge this atrocity, he'll be ready. 

When I remove the sheet, the bruises make me gasp again but more concerning is the constant ooze of blood from his anus. I turn him and probe as gently as I can. A cut into my finger makes me jolt. I use the blood to make him more slippery and open him up. Deep inside I can see a big sliver of glass still imbedded in his cold flesh. I ease it out slowly, and then probe again to make sure he's clean. I then let a few drops of my blood drip into him. Hopefully that will help him mend. When he's all patched up I move him to the sofa, turn the mattress (must get a new one, the smell is killing me) and put on clean sheets. I then put him back on the bed, tuck him in and stand back. 

All past grudges are forgotten and the love I feel for him is devastating. To see him this way is pain beyond imagination. Slowly I ease down on the bed and take him in my arms, holding him partly upright. How am I to feed him? There is no way he can swallow but I try anyway. I kiss him gently on the lips; it's like kissing a corpse, ice-cold, stiff and completely non-responsive. I slip my tongue in again, puncture it slightly and hold my unneeded breath. Even though I stroke his throat nothing goes down, it just leaks down from the corner of his mouth. I am feeling close to hysteria, how can I heal him when he can't even feed? Suddenly I get an idea. I ease him gently down on the pillows, put my pants on and run down. Gunn and Fred are sitting in the office. Both look emotionally worn out and my heart swells with the knowledge that a complete stranger and a vampire as well has this effect on them, just because they know he means something to me. 

“Gunn, we need to get hold of some hospital stuff. He desperately needs blood and I… we'll have to use an IV, he can't swallow, he can't even…” 

Suddenly it all becomes too much, I sit down, and burry my head in my hands. What if he never…Small hands cradling my head startle me out of my wretched thoughts and I slowly calm down before I raise my head. Fred looks at me with such concern and sympathy that I feel my shame fading away. 

“Angel, we will get anything you need. Just make a list and Charles will get hold of it somehow. Just please, keep your hopes up, if this vampire is anything like you, he'll get through this. We will find a way, I promise you.” 

No rambling, just comforting words said with such kindness that I have a hard time not loosing it again. Instead I nod, stroke her cheek in the way I used to caress my Will, take a deep breath, stand up and hug her. Even though she is not used to such affection from me she doesn't falter, only hugs me back and gives me a reassuring smile. I write down all I think is needed and give the list to Gunn. He nods, gives me an it-will-be-okay look and is on his way. I heat up a mug of human blood, down it and heat up another. After three mugs Fred coughs. 

“Shouldn't we save that for, you know, your friend?”

“It isn't powerful enough, if it runs through me first it will get more potent”

“Runs through…? …Oh”

The blood is making me whirly but at least it gives me a lot more strength than pig's blood. I almost feel myself again; physically that is, emotionally I'm a wreck. 

“Just let me know when he comes back, will you, please?” 

I make my way upstairs but once I reach the door I stand outside wresting my forehead against the wood. 'Please, God, Powers, whoever is listening, please help him.' The only answer I get is a mocking silence and I sigh. Of course, why would they want to help a soulless vampire? I take a deep unneeded breath and open the door. There he lies completely still just as I left him. At least he's not having nightmares, but that could just mean that there's no mind left to dream in. I sit on the bed, back against the wall, lift his head into my lap and slowly start stroking his incredibly soft curls. I can't help thinking about how many times I used to have him like this, not beaten to death, but lying asleep with his head in my lap, peaceful like a sleeping kitten because he felt perfectly safe as long as he were in my arms. A soft knock startles me and I realize I must have dozed off because it's now completely dark and my neck feels stiff. 

“Come in” 

Fred peaks in through the door, probably checking this time if I'm decent, before she comes in, followed by Gunn carrying a big bag. 

“Got all you asked for and some more blood as well, I'll just put that in the fridge shall I?”

I just nod.

“Do you need any help with setting this up, man?” 

“Thanks. I can probably plug him in myself but I'll need some help with the other. I think it would be best to attach it to my jugular vein. Should make it easier to keep higher.” 

Gunn looks at me with a puzzled and somewhat appalled look. 

“Fred said you were gonna give him your blood because it's stronger, but man! Can't you just let it run into a bag and have it drip in the usual way?” 

“I will if I have to leave his side but this way he gets it straight from me. That way he will sense me better and hopefully…” 

I just can't end that sentence so I let it hang in the air. Gunn nods and empties the bag on the bed. We find the IV and plug it into Spike's arm. Then Gunn adds a second needle on the other end and very carefully stings it into my jugular vein and attaches it there. Fortunately vampire blood runs rather slowly, that is unless we're fighting or fucking. So nothing spurts out, it just starts dripping slowly down the tube and into his veins. Nothing I can do now but wait. 

Fred hands me a mug of blood and I down it while she gets me a second. All this human blood is so intoxicating, I feel like a junkie getting his first shot after a month of abstinence. I have to watch out so I don't start sniffing at my friends' necks after these days of gluttonous human blood gorging. Probably gonna have some wild dreams in my sleep. Well I was kinda counting on that, having Spike in my arms and all, but now they're definitely gonna involve a lot more blood. I close my eyes and give into the pleasant sensation of being drained. Not the most erotic way I must admit but the feel and smell of him helps. 

I hear the door closing and I'm so caught up in the draining that I don't realize that Fred is still here until she suddenly coughs quietly. My eyes open with a start seeing that she is trying hard not to look at my crotch where things are clearly happening. I rearrange his head in my lap, which only makes me harder, but at least I'm mostly concealed. 

“Yes, Fred. What is it?” God, I hope my voice isn't really as husky as it sounds in my ears. 

“I'm sorry, I was just wondering, and feel free to tell me off, I just don't understand, who is he and what is he doing here? Gunn told me you called him your childe so I guess he belongs to your vampire family, but you've never seemed to be that fond of the rest of them. I mean, even if we helped Darla you didn't really like her, but you seem to feel so much for him.” She gestures towards Spike. “If he means so much to you, why haven't we met him before?” 

Her words sting my conscience and I look down at this injured vampire lying in my lap. I'm pondering how much I should tell her, but she misunderstands my silence, looks down embarrassed and stands up to leave. 

“I'm sorry, it's none of my business, forget I said anything…” 

“No, no, it's okay, you have a right to know what's going on, it's just, I don't know how to explain it, it's rather complicated.” 

“I have plenty of time, just tell me, you know, who he is and such…” 

Again I look down at his battered and broken face, stroking his hair slowly. 

“I'm not sure I know anymore.” 

And so I tell her about the day we met William, the not-so-good poet, how Dru had chosen him to be her pet, but being the butterfly-brain she was and still is, she only drained him and then brought him to me to “make him move again”. 

“I was tired of Dru's insanity and thought him too much of a whelp for her. But when he opened his eyes in a last attempt to make sense of what was happening and I saw those blue orbs I couldn't help loving him, he was such a beautiful thing. So I gave him my blood to bring him back. He flourished as a vampire and his wimpiness soon wore off. He took up the name Spike and started swearing like a docker. We had our endless rows about his neglected duties and his lack of respect.” 

I don't tell her how the fights often ended. Don't think her naive mind can quite handle it yet. So I tell her how he used to get us into trouble all the time, how Darla had hated him, how Dru doted on him and how he tried his best to piss me off in all ways he could. 

“Said he was trying to get me to lighten up. And he did accomplish that in a way. When we were alone I didn't have to act all superior like when the girls where around. We could just be two men having a good time. We loved to just laugh and hunt.”

Like the times we took turns luring a pretty girl away from the crowd with unsaid promises of pleasures she had only dreamed about. One the hunter, the other the observer, standing in the shadows, watching how the pray was made to believe she was going to have the most breathtaking experience of her virginal life, which, in a way, turned out to be true. 

“When the gypsies put the curse on me I walked out on my family, I never even said goodbye to them. I couldn't bear looking at them. The guilt for killing them and the loath for what we were was overwhelming. When I met them again in China two years later I was surprised to learn that Darla hadn't told them about my soul.”

When he saw me he totally ignored me except when showing his contempt or rubbing his attachment to Drusilla in my face. I tried to act nonchalant but his rejection hit me harder than the remorse I had for killing him. 

“Of course the reunion was a failure, I couldn't fool Darla for long and when she made me choose between a human baby and my life with my family, my soul made me choose the baby.” 

Here I pause. Fred is still sitting on the chair by my bed. I fear that she is repulsed by my story but she only looks at me with concern and such sympathy that my throat tightens. 

“Almost a century later I met Whistler in L.A. and he showed me how I could make my unlife mean something. He showed me Buffy.”

The second I lay eyes upon Buffy I wanted nothing more than to keep her safe. Somehow I figured that if such a loathsome creature as myself could make her life a bit easier it would give my existence some purpose and maybe make the pain fade a little. And as it turned out it did. What I didn't count on was falling completely in love with her, and her falling for me.

“I hadn't been with her for long when Spike and Drusilla came to Sunnydale. As soon as I saw him I knew I could never kill him. Of course he had changed, not only the new clothes or the shocking white hair, but he was so confident, no mere childe but a master vampire. I couldn't believe he didn't know about the soul, he obviously thought I'd been dusted or something worse because he greeted me like a long lost father, calling me “Yoda” which I never got until Buffy explained the whole Star Wars thing to me. But this time I couldn't fool him and the look of confusion and hurt on his face was shattering. When he finally grasped what had happened I could feel the hate emanating from him.” 

“Once I lost the soul I went mad. Hundred years of guilt and despair had made the demon completely insane. What should have been a heart rendering family reunion became a nightmare for Spike. He was trapped in a wheelchair and instead of giving him the healing Sire blood, I only ridiculed him, stole his princess and beat him into oblivion. I don't think he understood why that happened, he only knew that his Sire hated him, or rather seemed to completely despise him. No wonder he made an alliance with Buffy to kill me.”

Memories of my time in Hell attack me and I can't help shivering. A warm hand on my cheek brings me back. I had gotten so lost in my narration that I had forgotten I wasn't just reminiscing to myself. She smiles reassuringly, gets up to warm me a mug of blood, then sits down again without saying a word.

I then tell her about our rendezvous in L.A. a few years back. I can see the torture horrifies her but I try to explain why it doesn't bother me. Not only because of what I did to him in Sunnydale but because that is the demonic way to deal. If you need something from someone a little torture goes a long way. Pictures of Merle hanging upside down in the sewers come to mind. 

Then I tell her about the chip, that he can't harm humans, but as she can see he can't defend himself against them either. And that he has been helping Buffy the last few years. 

“The bottom line is that he is my family and he is back with me for the first time in a hundred years. For some reason he came to me for help, not Dru and not Buffy. I don't know why but something must have happened. The Spike I know would never have gotten himself in such a mess, he is too cunning for that, chip or no chip.”

Wait a minute…he's not supposed to be able to harm humans! But then how could he try to rape Buffy? Something's not right here.

“Fred, could you please hand me the phone, I have to make a call” 

“Sure, no problem.” She gets up but turns back and gives me a warm hug. “And as soon as he wakes up you can tell him how much you love him.” 

I just smile at her, telling Spike the 'Big Bad' that I love him, not likely. She hands me the phone, then quietly goes out the door and shuts it behind her. I dial Buffy's number for the second time in two days.

“Hello, Buffy Summers.”

“Hi, it's me.” There's a long pregnant pause.

“Hi… Is everything all right? Dawn told me you called, but you hung up before she could ask what you wanted.” 

“Spike's here.” 

This time the pause is longer. She's probably wondering how much he's told me. 

“I know about you two and…and what he tried to do to you.”

Still silence but I can hear her heart beating faster.

“That's not why I'm calling though, well sort off…How come he could do that if his chip is still working?” 

“Spike's with you? Is he all right?” The softness in her voice surprises me, not exactly the voice of a rape victim talking about her attacker.

“No. He's badly injured, I'm not sure he's gonna make it.” Again silence for a long time but I can hear her heart jumping as if in fear. “Buffy, talk to me. I really need to know about this.”

“Would slayer blood help?” 

Whatever I expected it wasn't this. Drinking her blood was one of the most powerful experiences I've ever had. I almost drained her because I got so intoxicated. And she is willing to give Spike, her attempted rapist that same gift? I don't know if I should feel jealous or relieved.

“I don't know, it might. Why? Are you telling me he didn't try to rape you?” 

“No, he did, it's just…I'll explain when I get to L.A. I'll ask Xander to drive me. Dawn can stay with her friend. I'll be there before nightfall.” 

With that she hangs up, leaving me completely bewildered.


	3. Chapter 3

ANGEL'S POV

The day goes slowly by. I sit with his head in my lap, drinking the blood Fred keeps bringing me and dozing off occasionally. I am by now almost used to the feeling of being drained, it doesn't give me a constant hard on but it sure makes the dreams more pleasurable. They're filled with memories of Spike, the smell of Spike, the taste of Spike, the touch of Spike but most of all feelings for Spike. His laughter rings in my ears, his soft voice, his annoying singing, his moans and sighs. When I wake up from these dreams, seeing him lying just as still as before breaks my heart over and over again.  
A soft knock on the door tells me of her arrival. I guess I should have been able to sense her before but I was kind of caught up in a little fantasy involving a certain blonde vampire and some chocolate. I try not to blush when she comes in, no way she can know what I was thinking of. She smiles at me shyly but then freezes when she sees him.

“Oh my God…I never expected…”

Tears start trailing down her cheeks but she puts on a hard face and strides in.

“How do you want to do this?”

“I guess it would be easiest if you could just draw some blood into a bag. Then I'll hook it up to the IV.”

She hooks herself up and then sits back in the armchair. For a long time we just sit in silence. The smell of her blood is maddening but I bury the demon deep inside my soul. All this stimulation is making me both tense and confused. I'm being drained, I have Spike's head in my lap, and my ex is pouring out her blood an arms length away. God, how did I ever get myself into this mess? And please, just keep this sensation going forever.

“What happened?”

Her voice startles me. I look at her with a blank look on my face. She gestures toward Spike. I can see she is trying hard not to cry.

“Humans.”

She looks taken aback. Hard thing thinking of humans as bad, when you're the Slayer.

“What did they do?”

I hesitate, I don't know how much to tell her. In the end I decide to go with the truth. She has been sleeping with him and she seems to care about him. Besides Fred and Gunn have probably already guessed so it's better she hears it from me than them.

“Beat him. Raped him. Stabbed him in the heart. With a knife though, not a stake. I doubt they knew what he is. His skull is broken, as well as many of his bones; he's got some internal injuries, both from being beaten and stabbed but also from the rapes. But I think the blood loss is what's killing him. It's my fault. I didn't tend to him well enough and he bled out during the night.”

I say it all indifferently like I'm retelling a movie. She is shocked, my words make her flinch and I can see her throat moving as she swallows her tears. The movement mesmerizes me. I don't register that I'm staring at her neck until she speaks again.

“Are you all right? You look…”

I snap out of it, ashamed of my longing.

“I'm sorry. It's just…I've been drinking human blood to rebuild his strength… and mine. I just got pulled out of a three-month vacation at the bottom of the sea and I'm still not feeling quite myself. The smell of your blood isn't exactly making it easier.”

I expect her to show fear or disgust but she only nods.

We sit in silence.

“Why do you think he came to you?”

“Don't know. Blood ties, I guess. He knows I would never turn him away if he really needed me.”

Silence.

“How come you ended up at the bottom of the ocean?”

Hmm. Again, how much to tell her? Guess I'll stick to this honest truth thing. So I tell her the whole story about Darla coming back and our child, Connor. How he was stolen from me, first by Wesley and then by my old enemy Holtz who took him to a hell dimension. How he came back an angry teenager, hating my guts and sentenced me to live forever at the bottom of the sea because he thought I killed his adoptive father.

“So I spent three months hallucinating I was killing people while fishes swam around my head. Wesley pulled me out four days ago. When I came back here I found out Cordelia's been missing these three months as well. We still haven't found her.”

Try telling this story to anyone else and they'd lock you up. Buffy only looks taken aback when I talk about sex with Darla and the fact that I have a son. Guess the other stuff's just her everyday world.

“Where is he now? Connor, I mean.”

“I threw him out of the hotel, haven't exactly been up to seeing him but Gunn tells me he's doing okay. Sleeping on the streets, but he can take care of himself, super strength and all.”

“Does he look like you?”

“Handsome and broody, you mean?” That brings a small smile to her face. “Well, he has my eyes, no doubt there. Not much with the brooding though, more “all vampires are evil and I have to kill them”. A bit like you now I come to think about it. Except he hates me a lot more”

“I never hated you. Never have, never will.”

I smile softly at her. Silence. Clock ticking.

“What happened with Willow?

She stops smiling and looks away, battling her feelings.

“Someone killed Tara, the love of her life. She totally lost it to the dark magic, killed Tara's murderer and then tried to end the world. If Xander hadn't managed to stop her…”

“Xander is the apocalyptic hero of the year? Well things sure have changed.”

That makes her smile again.

“So you and Spike, huh? Not that I don't see the attraction, that's why I sired him.”

That shocks her a bit. Oh, oh, maybe I went too far, I really don't want her to figure out the sex thing.

“Spike told me Dru sired him.”

“What!”

Why does that hurt me so?

“Well okay, she picked him out and drained him. But I was the one who brought him back. I was the one who taught him the ropes. Those first years he was much more my companion than Drusilla's.” Shit, now I've blown it.

“I know about the bond between Sire and Childe. It's okay, it doesn't embarrass me so why should it embarrass you?”

I look at her shocked. How…?

“Angel. I'm the Slayer. It's my job to know these things. Don't look so shocked, I have actually read some of the books Giles kept shoving at me. And most of those he tried to hide. I studied your saga, and Spike's, rather enthusiastically. Besides, with all the snide marks Spike kept throwing at Xander I kinda figured he went both ways.”

That makes me chuckle and I look at her in wonder. When did she grow all up? I guess dying and going to heaven can do that to you.

“So how did you end up with Spike?”

“He fell in love with me and kept following me around. Then I died. When I came back it felt like he was the only person I could talk to. I couldn't tell the others about my trip to heaven so I told him. It was like he was the only one who could understand how I was feeling. You know, being lonely, desperate, an outcast, a freak. I felt so much loathing for myself that when he proved to me that I wasn't quite human by hitting me back one time I just lost it. Figured if I wasn't human I could just as well sleep with a soulless demon.”

“Being with him made the pain go away for a while. So I used him to make myself feel something, anything at all, without ever considering what this was doing to him. I hated him for making me want him so much but not as much as I hated myself for making him my whore. Because that's what he was. He knew it but he still kept coming back for more. Guess he figured that way he could at least have a part of me. When I finally turned him down he went a bit insane. He tried to show me that being with him was the only way I could feel. Got a bit carried away, mistook my no for yes.”

She looks calm but I can see the memory bothers her.

“When I finally shoved him off he was horrified. Probably didn't know what he'd been doing until that minute. You know, being used to violent sex and all. And by that I don't just mean with other vampires or former victims, I mean with me as well. Anyway, that's the last time I saw him.”

Her matter of fact account of the affair surprises me. Again I catch myself wondering, who is this girl? By now she has filled two bags. I take the needle out of my vein, hook one of her bags up and then stand up too stretch.

“It should be all right to leave him for a while. Do you want to come down and have a coffee or something?”

She nods, walks over and kisses him lightly on the forehead and then we walk down together, side by side, not quite touching but in a way still connected. Except this time it isn't through our past but through Spike. He's our common factor.

I had forgotten that Xander drove her over here. He is sitting on the couch in the lobby, eating a big burger and fries. Comfort food much…?

“Hi there Deadboy. So how's it hanging?”

I almost reply “Like a horse” but since the girls are present I think better off it and say, “Don't call me that” instead. He grins and pops another fry in his mouth.

“So what's up with the bleach wonder? Raped some girls lately?”

He's still got a smile on his face but it's ugly and his eyes are hard. I try to remind myself that he's angry and being protective off Buffy but he still pisses me off. But before I say anything Buffy turns on him with fierce eyes.  
  
“Xander. I appreciate you driving me, but don't go there. That's not why we're here.”

He looks at her stunned, but then he shrugs. “Okay, your call. I'm just the driver.” His cold voice speaks volumes.

She walks over to him and puts a hand on his arm. “Look I know you're angry, but that's really my right, not yours. So if I'm okay with it, you should be able to deal. Agreed?”

He looks down shamefully for a moment before he replies. “I just don't get it, okay. I know he helped us in the past, you felt something for him, but Buffy, that was before he tried to rape you! I would think that unevens the score by a million at least. Why on earth do you want to help him? Why can't we just stake him, he's obviously not chipped anymore and…”

“Well, that's the thing, he is. It just doesn't work on me. Guess I did come back a little wrong, after all.” She smiles sadly. “Xander, he is completely helpless and he might be dying. He worked beside us for years, he lived in your basement, and he saved our lives plenty of times. That's what I focus on, please, can't you just do the same?”

“What do you mean, dying? I thought vampires were supposed to be immortal. Did he get poisoned like Soulboy here, or what?”

“Why don't you just go up and see him?” She looks at me and even if it makes me uneasy I nod. If we want him to help he has to be willing.

“Room 217. And Xander…if you hurt him I will brake your neck.”

That scares him even though he huffs like he doesn't believe me, not quite anyway. When he comes back a few minutes later he is quiet for a while before he asks what he can do.

“We're trying to find a demon doctor. The one I knew got eaten a few weeks ago. Some unhappy customer. Fred and Gunn are going to check these two names out; see if they're the real deal or just some jokers. You can go with them for back-up or go find some more human blood, it's going fast and we're running out of excuses at the local hospital.”

“Okay, I'll do that. Know a guy who works in the hospital in the upper district.”

I stop him before he goes. “Xander. Thank you.”

He looks at me harshly. “No one deserves that. Believe me, I know.” And with that he leaves.

Buffy orders pizza and I down another mug of blood. God, it's good. It's going to be hard giving this up again. I feel her watching me so I turn away to hide my feelings.

“You know, I never realised there would be a difference between human blood and animal blood. Is it like eating a steak after living on crackers?”

I chuckle at her honesty.

“More like having sex after being celibate for a hundred years.”

Fuck, did I say that? I turn around to apologize but instead we look at each other and break into hysterical laughter. I laugh until it starts to hurt and then I'm overcome by my feelings again. I turn away but her hands reach my face. I collapse down on a chair and she cradles my head. How long have I wanted this, to be near her, to smell her sweet vanilla hair, to feel her warm soft skin? I lean into her embrace savouring the moment.

SPIKE'S POV  
  
'Tis so dark. What happened? One minute I was dreaming of being in Angel's arms an' then… nothing. An' I've got this horrible feeling that that nothing has been going on for ages. The first I sense is a kind of dark red tentacle reaching towards me. It smells an' feels like blood. Sire's blood, Angel's blood. Tinged with misery an' pain an' … love? The blood seeps into my veins, filling 'em again, travelling into my limbs, my head, my heart. The love in it swallows me up an' I let it wrap around me like a blanket.  
…  
…  
Why's it so cold now? 'S he gone?

*Cors' he's gone, why would he want to stay with you?*

I'm filthy an' broken an' why did he leave me? Please Angel, close out the Real World. I just can't take it; please I just want to rest. Can I rest now? The blood an' the warmth are gone. No more love, no more love.

*No love for the wicked. No love for the evil monster. *

Christ I'm slipping into the Real World, 'tis reaching for me, clawing at me with cold hands, pain an' despair in every finger!! Angel!! Help me! Make it go away! I'm slipping, I'm slipping…

Another red tentacle catches me and I can feel the blood seeping into me again. But different, no more misery or pain. Just deep sorrow an' incredible strength an'… love? Sunlight an' flowers an' a strange feeling of content… No. I killed you. I raped you an' I drank you an' you're dead, dead, dead. Why are you here? You're sad. Please don't be sad, don't be sad for me, I'm not even here, luv. This is just a dream, soon I'll wake up an' all my sins will rain down on me from heaven. Big heavy burning drops of holy water. They'll burn an' burn. The dead souls of all my victims cry over my depravity, holy tears, drowning me, burning me. But for now, you're here. Your presence's faint though, like you're watching me through a glass window, the blood filtering through like rays of sun. But that's enough, it will keep me safe.

ANGEL'S POV  
  
When I come back I can see a slight change and it's incredibly heartening. The swelling is going down, the bruises slowly fading. I stroke his hair and I can see the eyes moving underneath the lids. Looks like he's dreaming. The bag of blood is nearly empty. I wonder if he can feel its strength, if he picks up the same feelings I could smell on her blood. I softly cup his face and study it. Doesn't seem like the damage is permanent. I can nearly see the skin healing, hear the bones knotting together. Does he know what's happening? Can he feel pain? Does he know I'm here?

I have to change his bandages. The one across his chest is soaked. I gently remove it, bite my wrist and let the blood drop into the stab wound. This time it almost closes, only leaving a shallow hole. I clean and dress it again. Then I slowly turn him over, making sure the IV doesn't get caught. The gashes on his back and buttocks are also slighter. The area around his entrance is still very bruised, like it's healing slower just to mock me. I brush my fingers tenderly over it, sighing softly.

A short intake of breath startles me, I look up and she is standing there with horror in her eyes. I burn with shame and withdraw my fingers instantly. But she isn't looking at my transgression; she is staring at Spike, at his wounds, especially the ones on his backside. She comes forward, and turns him gently, taking in the wounds on his other side. I'm about to say she doesn't have to do this, I will take care of him, when she reaches out and softly brushes her fingers over his genitals, light like feathers. The scene is so sad but also incredibly erotic. This is not the first time she has touched him, that much is obvious. I know I should feel jealous but her gentle caress is like a child stroking a dead bird, not quite believing what has happened, thinking it can bring it back to live just by wishing it. There is just this one stroke, than she stands back, reaches for my hand and we stand together, side by side, two lovers looking down on the object of their affection. After a while she squeezes my hand and lets go.

“Should I?” She gestures toward the empty blood-bags.

“I think it'd be better if you saved your strength. If you feel up to it you can give him more tomorrow.”

She looks like she's about to argue but she's obviously tired so in the end she just nods and sits in the chair, while I take care of his injuries. When that's done I sit down on the bed and cradle his head in my lap once again.

“I've never seen his natural hair color before. It's nice. I wonder why he insists on hiding it. Part of the Billy Idol image I guess. Pictures himself big and tough when he is just as vulnerable as the rest of us….”

The last words catch in her throat and she starts crying silently, her tears glitter on her lashes before they slowly trail down her cheeks. I beckon her to me, she moves in on his other side and together we hold him while the blood trickles and the tears dry.


	4. Chapter 4

ANGEL'S POV

Three days later and Spike's still in a deep coma. Buffy and Xander help me take care of the business so I can spend more time with him. I thought her stay here would upset me but somehow it has just put my feelings to rest. I still love her, no doubt about that, but I'm not sure, if given the chance of humanity, that I would go back to her. And I don't think she would want me back. Our time has past. We don't fit together anymore, not that way. In some ways it's sad but in other ways I'm relieved. I don't think she ever grasped what I am, what my life was like before the soul, or after it, for that matter. She read the stories but I think she felt she was reading about someone else. She never got that I live with Angelus inside me, struggling for dominance with my soul, every waking and sleeping moment. She has no idea what I am capable of, especially if Angelus gets out to play.

The things I did in Sunnydale were mere peanuts. The only reason I didn't run more havoc among the public was that I was obsessed with her and of course, destroying the world. The old Angelus never would have wanted an apocalypse. He thought killing was an art, using terror as his canvas and torture for pencils. An apocalypse only means chaos, where's the art in that? Hundred years of struggling with the soul had left the demon completely insane.

If I lost my soul now I probably would just kill him. No fun badgering someone who isn't aware of it. And then, of course, I would go about terrorising, torturing and finally killing the others. Wonder if the Buffy obsession would come up again, or maybe I would pick someone else. Not many other worthy opponents really. Wesley perhaps, or Connor. Now Cordy would be someone worth stalking. She was so feisty; it would probably take weeks to break her, especially if she was still in love with me. God, I miss her. All the angst these last days had put her out of my mind and now I feel guilty. But at the same time I can't really leave Will. The doctor we found couldn't give us any answers; he just looked at me accusingly, gave us some stimulating herbs and told me to keep him well nourished.  
  
His wounds are almost all gone now. There's a deep scar still above his heart and white streaks mark the slow departure of the other gashes. The bruises on his backside are finally turning green and yellow. But my main concern is his lack of response. No movement or sound. I have a feeling though that he knows I'm here. I think I can detect the slightest frown when I leave and he seems to relax a bit more when I take him in my arms. But it's hard to tell because he's as slack as a comatose cat. I have a feeling I could bend him double if I tried. Either his brain is damaged beyond repair or he just doesn't want to wake up. It's strange, I thought he would feel the love that's been surrounding him the last days, not just from me, but Buffy as well. Shouldn't he want to wake up to that?

SPIKE'S POV

I can feel him as soon as he walks into the room. No, I can feel him as soon as he comes back into the building. Coming closer, walking up the stairs, through the corridor, opening the door, walking to the bed an' finally taking me in his arms. His presence chases away the Real World, makes the voices fade an' the faces dim. I can hear my demon screaming inside me, telling me to wake up, but I like these dreams. In the dreams I'm living with Angel, sleeping in his bed, in his arms. His friends talk to me, in some of them the ghost of Buffy is even here, smiling at me, sometimes laughing softly at something the others are saying.

I wonder if they know she isn't real. That I killed her. But then I remember none of this is real, the words, the touches, the tears. He is so sad an' I want to tell him to cheer up. I want to tell him so many things, like “look I've got a soul now, how 'bout that, hey?” or “Sorry for all the piss I took on ya luv, never knew 't was like this”. I want to tell him about the Real World an' that I don't want to go back there, please Angel, don't let it take me again. But I can't make a sound. It's like I'm mute. So when he gets up to leave again he doesn't hear my screams since they're all inside my head. An' as soon as he's gone I wake up again, wake up in the Real World. They claw at me, ripping at my flesh, digging into my noggin.

No, want to go back to the dreams, want to go back…Must block out the screams, must talk an' hum an' whistle. “Whenever I feel afraid, I whistle a happy tune…” Doesn't help, nothing helps. Mum, please make 'em go away.

**But mum is dead, dead, dead. Ya killed her; raped her an' killed her on the bathroom floor.**

No, no, that was Buffy… Buffy, please, I'm sorry. Mummy? Did I kill mummy? Please mum, will you lull me back to sleep so I can dream again, dream of Angel an' love an' no more screams…

ANGEL'S POV

It looks as if he's moved a little while I was downstairs. Knees a bit more drawn up, like he's trying to move into the foetal position. His brow is slightly frowned so I guess he's not dreaming of happy times. I'm about to slip under the covers when I hear him humming softly. Sounds like a lullaby. I lean in further but I can't make out the words. Suddenly a thought strikes me. I dial the number Lorne gave us for his place in Vegas. He should be home at this time and I'm in luck because he answers right away.

“Angelcakes. Fred told me you were back. Had a nice little underwater cruise I heard. I told you to watch out for that son of yours.”

“Lorne, that's not why I'm calling. I need you to listen to something. You think you can read him over the phone? He's only humming.”

“Shouldn't be a problem. But why…?”

“Just listen, please, and tell me what you see.”

I put the phone to his head and hold it there for a while.

“So could you see anything?”

“Well it's very faint, mixed up with blinding fear, confusion and utter despair. All I can tell you is that this is a soul in terrible torment.”

“What do you mean, soul? He's a vampire.”

“Well so are you, precious. Listen, I don't know what is going on or who he is, but you better get him some help very soon or your going to loose him. Wherever he is it's not here. He's lost in a world of agony and his train of though is slowly speeding away into Lala-land. The only bright spot in there are his thoughts of you, muffin, which he seems to think are dreams. He doesn't really believe you're there.”

“Thanks. I'll talk to you later.”

With that I hang up. My mind is in utter confusion. How could this happen? Why did this happen? Then it suddenly hits me. Spike has a soul. Spike has been struggling with the storm of guilt and pain, almost out of his mind, while at the same time not being able to defend himself in any way against human malice. Probably thought he deserved everything they did to him, reliving his own actions through the years. What a treat he must have been to them. Little or no resistance, someone so proud and beautiful pushed down to the lowest levels of degradation. It all makes sense now, why they had been able to do this to him, why he came here, why he clings to his coma. Memories of my early years after the soul assault me and I stagger to the bed. I lie down and pull him close to me, wrapping myself around him. At once he calms down, his frown disappears and the humming stops. I whisper softly in his ear, trying to convince him to wake up, 'this is not a dream, this is real, I'm here little one, and I'm never going to leave you.' My tears damp his hair and the purring comes naturally. It is soothing for both of us and soon I'm drifting into sleep.

SPIKE'S POV

He's back. My Angel's back. “Come to me,” he says,” wake up, I'm real.” Perhaps I should…

**Oh yeah, wake up. About bloody time. Can't stand this shit. Wake up to daddy, little William. Wake up an' tell him what you've done. Raped his little slayer, bathed in her blood. Go on then, wake up an' tell him. Bet ya, he's gonna be sooo pleased. Pleased to rip your heart out.**

No! It's not real. It's the demon trying to get me to wake up in the Real World. I want to stay in the dreams with Angel and his friends.

**Yeah, his friends, not your friends. An' as soon as you tell 'em what you did, they're gonna look at you in disgust an' poof, you're gone. Nothing but a pile of dust. No one loves ya, little William. You're nothing, just a moving corpse. Only good for one thing, an' you know what that is, don't ya? Up with your arse, moan an' wriggle.**

No!! SHUT! UP! He says he loves me. He wants me back. He called me his little one.

**But he doesn't know, does he? An' when he does? Bye, bye little William. Oh, come on. You reckon he's gonna want ya then? Perhaps for a quick fuck. Hasn't had any in years an' not likely you're gonna give him any bliss. Reckon he's gonna stick it up your arse, rip you up until you're no fun anymore, an' then…**

ANGEL'S POV  
  
When I wake up his head is on my chest. He's been crying, my chest is damp and I smell of salt. I hug him tightly and for a second he hugs me weakly back. Maybe…? But his eyes are still closed and he's limp again. Still, every change is encouraging. Maybe now he'll respond to other things. I tilt his head upwards and kiss him lightly on the lips. Nothing. I probe my tongue inside and bite in it to make the blood flow. It is beginning to leak down his chin when he suddenly moves his lips and starts to suckle. My heart leaps with faith. I try to make all my reassuring thoughts of love into the blood, telling him it's going to be all right. 'I know about the soul, I'm here to help you, I will never leave you. Just please, Will, wake up, come back to me. I'm real, this is real, I'm not a dream. Everyone is so worried about you. Please come back, please Will, wake up, we'll sort things out, I'll help you, I know how you feel, I've been there, just please, wake up and talk to me.' His suckling gets stronger and I feel like I'm reaching him, when suddenly I can sense someone in the door. Connor.

I ease Spike from my mouth and as he leaves I hear a faint whimper. He's obviously closer to the surface, which makes the interruption even worse. I look up at my son, standing in the doorway. Dirty, angry, very confused. To him it probably looks like I'm in bed with another man, kissing him. Which of course is true but not quite accurate. He stares at me while I try to figure out what to say to him.

“Hi son. How's it going?”

Hmmm. Not so smart. He abruptly turns around and walks out. I can sense him hovering just around the corner before he comes back.

“When were you thinking of telling me that you're gay? Or do you bend both ways, since you were panting over Cordelia a few months ago.”

“I'm a vampire, Connor. Look it up.”

“What's that suppose to mean?”

“We're not picky?”

“So you'll fuck anything that comes you're way, that's what you're saying?”

I have a mind to say, “How do you think you were conceived”, but think better of it. I have no idea how to explain this.

“I wouldn't say that. Anyway I don't think he's up to it.”

At that he slowly comes in, until he stands by the end of the bed, looking at Spike.

“What happened to him? Who is he?”

“His name is William, usually called Spike. I sired him around 120 years ago. Don't worry; he wouldn't be able to hurt you even if he wasn't comatose. He's got a chip in his head that prevents him from hurting humans. But as you can see it also prevents him from defending himself.”

“Humans did this?” He looks taken aback for a second but recovers quickly. “Well, chip or no chip, he's a vampire and should die. I should stake him.”

“Don't you even think about it! As long as he is under my roof he has my protection. I advice you to get used to him being here. Especially since he is the closest thing you have to a brother.” I say that last thing with a bit of glee. The kid likes to forget where he comes from, well there's a reminder for ya.

He looks at me with disgust, turns on his heel and leaves. I feel a bit guilty but not much. I'm through with treating him like a delicate flower. If the past months have taught me anything, it's that he needs to grow up, get some perspective. Seeing everything in black and white is not a healthy attitude.

I turn back to my task but this time he shows no response and I curse the intrusion once more. So instead I go back to stroking his hair, talking quietly and reassuringly, trying to lure him back to life, purring softly all the while. And slowly I find myself drifting back to sleep.

SPIKE'S POV

They're coming for me. Run, run, but nowhere to hide. All doors locked, please let me in. They're gonna catch me. Run, rabbit, run. Trapped. Hands gripping me, tearing my skin, clawing at my eyes. Dragging me along, up the hill, up the hill. Hammer an' nails. Father, why hast thou forsaken me?

ANGEL'S POV

For a moment I think I'm awake but then I realise that I'm not at home in bed anymore. I'm standing in a crowd watching a man being crucified. His head is lowered and I can't see his face but I don't need to. That's when I figure out where I am. I'm inside Wills head and this is one of his dreams. This is no crowd; this is a mob. Every one of them has bite marks and many other signs of violence and torture on their body. They're crying and screaming accusations at him, throwing rocks, pressing crosses into his skin, soaking him with holy water. I try to get to him but the mob is too persistent. His skin is smoking, blood streaming down his face and body. Then he slowly raises his head and in his eyes there is no hope, no fear, just total acceptance. In his mind, this is what he deserves and if what Lorne says is true, this is what he thinks is real. As they make to raise him up on the cross I cry out.

“NO!!! Will, please, you have to stop this. This isn't real.”

I find the strength to break through the mass of people that only seems to grow greater and finally I'm at his side.

“Will, please look at me. We have to get out of here, you don't belong here, you belong home with me.”

He looks at me blankly for a moment until a flicker of recognition flashes in his eyes, “Home?”

“Yes, home. My home. Our home. Just please, you have to wake up.”

He stares at me for a long time. And then slowly nods.  
…  
…

I wake up with a start and I'm looking straight into blue eyes. It is the most wonderful sight I've ever seen and in my delight I laugh and kiss him with passion. He looks at me with disbelief. “Angel?” His voice is hoarse with misuse but it sounds like music to my ears.

“Yes, yes it's me.” I smile at him. “Welcome home, Will.”

And then he breaks down and cries like a child. I just hold him tight and rock him in my arms, all the while kissing him and purring softly. We sit like that for what seems like hours until he starts breathing slowly and I know he's sleeping. I just continue stroking his hair and purring into his ear until I feel myself relaxing and close my eyes.  
…  
…

A startling movement at my side wakes me up. It's dark again outside and it takes me a moment to remember what happened but then I turn my head and there he is, wide awake with a confused look on his face. He stares into my eyes, like he's trying to decide if this is reality or just another fantasy world. I smile at him and kiss him lightly on the lips.

“Good morning. Sleep well?”

“Angel?”

“Yeah, it's me. Everything is okay. You're safe here.”

“Safe?”

“Completely safe.“

“Where's here?

“L.A., the Hyperion, my hotel.”

He looks around, taking in the surroundings.  
  
“How…how did I get here?”

“Don't you know? What's the last thing you remember?”

“Went to see a bloke about a bird, down in Africa. Asked him to put my soul back. Guess he did. Everything's a bit of a blur since, none of it fun.”

“So it's true. But why? I don't get it. You hated my soul.”

“'Cause… because of what I did, what I did to…” His eyes widen with shock. “God, Angel, I have to tell ya, she's dead. I raped her an' I killed her an' now she's dead, dead, dead”

He starts rocking and chanting the words over and over again.

“No, Spike, she's all right. Look at me. You didn't succeed, you didn't rape her, you didn't even try to kill her. In fact she's here. She's been giving you her blood. She doesn't hate you, she cares about you, she has forgiven you.”

“No, no, I remember, I took her again an' again an' then I drank her dry. I'm bad, bad. William is a bad man, a bad, bad man.”

“William, Will, look at me. She's all right. If you want I can fetch her. I'm sure she'll be glad to hear you're awake.”

“She was in heaven an' then she was in hell. Did I send her to heaven again, ya reckon? She liked it in heaven, my angel, my bright angel, my little Goldilocks. No more hell, no more hell for her. Jus' for me. Beneath her, I was beneath her but I still loved her. She hated me but she still fucked me. Never love, never making love. Just flesh, nothing but flesh. Filthy, filthy, makes her spit an' shower. But no matter, no matter, just a little touch, all I need, a little warmth an' I smile until she's gone an' then I cry. But then she said no, no please, but I didn't care so I took her until she was broken an' then I drank her all up. An' now she's dead, dead, dead. Dead, dead, dead. Monster. I'm a monster. Never love me, no, no, never, never love me. Evil, evil. Bad, bad man, William is a bad, bad man.”

A stifled cry comes from the doorway and there she is. His words horrify her, she's covering her mouth and her eyes are full of disgust. Not for him but for herself. I don't think she really understood what she was doing to him until right this moment. She kneels by his side and takes his hand.

“Shhh, Spike. It's all right. I'm here. You didn't rape me, you didn't kill me. I'm still here. I'm not in hell anymore. I'm almost happy now. Everything is okay.”

He looks up at her in disbelieve. “You're not dead?” A look of confusion is on is face. “Am I dead? Is this hell? Am I in hell now?”

His words seem to strike a cord in her but she takes his face in her hands, looks straight into his eyes and says, “No Spike, this is not hell. This is home.”


	5. Chapter 5

ANGEL'S POV

He seems to be doing better. Not much though. I don't know why I thought everything would work itself out if he only woke up. He spends a lot of his time sleeping, occasionally motionless, but more often quivering and whimpering. When he's awake he's only partly lucid. Sometimes it's like having the old Spike back, I can talk to him and he smiles and jokes. But then he falls back into his trance, rocking back and forth, mumbling about how evil he is or just staring out into nothing, not moving a muscle. He won't drink the human blood I bring him; the only way I can feed him is by letting him drink from me.

And there we have another problem. He needs strong blood, which means I have to drink strong blood, human blood. The intoxicating taste, the sensation of him draining me, feeling him in my arms, smelling him; it's maddening and I feel myself getting sucked into a turmoil of vampire sensations. My demon screams at me to give in, let go. I know the others have noticed a change. I loose my human face when I drink, something I had complete control over before, and I've caught myself staring at wounds they suffer in our battles, inhaling the scent of their blood. They haven't said anything, yet, but I've noticed that Gunn never comes near me without a weapon tucked in somewhere. I know I have to wean us both off but by now I'm totally addicted. Just one more glass, just one more feeding. And so the days go by.

Buffy and Xander left after a week. While Xander was carrying their stuff to the car she took me aside and asked me how I was doing.

“Well… I don't know. I never expected to feel like this for him again. Seeing him in this state …I'm afraid what it will do to both of us if he doesn't get better soon.”

“He is totally dependent on you. That's not good.”

“I know, I know. I've tried to make him sleep alone but I can't stand…his cries break my heart.”

“I'm not talking about that. Of course you have to sleep with him, Angel, and that's a sentence I never thought I'd say. No, I'm talking about the blood.”

I looked away, hoping she couldn't see the look of shame and longing in my eyes. She put her palm to my cheek, turned my face towards her.

“It's okay, I understand, you both like it, it's just I'm afraid you're going to start liking it a bit too much.”

“We are supposed to like it, it's what we're made for. That's what makes it so hard. Giving it up means going against my nature, again. But you're right, I know. The step across that line is so much more tempting now. And everyday I feel myself getting closer to Angelus. I'm just glad you're leaving.”

She stepped back, hurt.

“No, no, I didn't mean it that way. It's just, I can already smell your blood and I think you have to go before it starts… flowing.” I cringed.

She looked puzzled for a moment until it suddenly dawned on her and she wrinkled her nose in an eeww expression that made her once again into that young girl I remembered. Then she laughed.

“Okay, I get ya. I'm going. But if you need anything, call. All right?”

“Yes, I promise. And, Buffy? Thank you.”

“Anytime. That's what old friends and lovers are for, right?” Her grin made me wonder if she meant Spike or me but before I could ask she was gone.

That was two weeks ago. His wounds have all healed, except the ones we can't see. Sometimes he still thinks he killed Buffy; other times that he staked Drusilla. But most of his nightmares, sleeping or awake, are spent reliving his days as the 'Big Bad'. He sometimes remind me of Cave-Fred, except, his ramblings contain more blood and not so much physics. And he's male, and blond and makes me hard the instant I get into the room.

And there we have yet another problem. It didn't take him long to notice I got hard every time he drank from me. And no, that's not why I haven't been able to stop this; it's the blood, not the…other things. Anyway, where was I? Yes. The first time it happened I could feel him stiffen and then a hand sneaked down towards my crotch. Which would have been heaven if I hadn't smelled the fear coming off him in waves. I pulled him off me and looked into his eyes. His face was completely blank, hand hovering like he was waiting for me to… what? Hit him? Praise him? Condemn him? Damn, all these months of sexual abuse, no wonder he's scared. Maybe he thinks he has to pay me for the blood. Well, that's how Angelus made him pay for treats. So I just removed his hand firmly and then pressed him back against my neck. But every time I feed him it's the same. And every time I allow him to get a little closer, linger a little longer. God, I know I'm using him. He doesn't know what he's doing; he seems to surrender into some kind of oblivion while he's drinking. That is until he feels my erection. Then he freezes and stinks of fear but always the hand, creeping slowly, slowly. I know I should stop him right away, to assure him that he doesn't have to do this. But I pretend I don't notice until he has almost laid his hand on me. Then, and only then do I take it firmly away. I can feel this confusing him and the guilt is killing me but the demon in me wants him. Wants him to stroke me, kneed me, lick me. And I know if I don't pull myself together that's what will happen. And then I'm really going to hate myself.

SPIKE'S POV

I don't get it. I can feel him an' smell him but every time he stops me. I know he wants it so I should give it to him, right? Tit for tat, ya know. But he pushes me away, disgust on his face an' I don't get what's wrong.

**You know what's wrong. Come on, like he'd fancy you? He'd have to close his bloody eyes. You're nothing, you're a botty boy for anyone who needs a shag. You're a disgusting fuck, you are, arching for it like a lil' whore. Did ya really think he'd turn to you after Buffy? You're supposed to be her replacement? Oh, come off it. You know if he fucked you, he'd only be thinking of her, dreaming of her sweet lil' cunt. An' then he'd look down, an' there you'd be! Probably give the old fart a heart attack.**

ANGEL'S POV  
  
I drank the last bag of human blood yesterday. I didn't ask them to buy more and I know they're relieved. The pig blood is disgusting, I can hardly get it down, but this is how it must be. Yesterday morning he got as far as stroking me and I had to shove him off and flee into the bathroom, jerking off in the shower while trying to swallow the disgust I felt for myself. When I came back he lay curled up in his sleep, shivering, dried tears on his face. How could I do this to him? This has got to stop. And now it will. I walk up the stairs and enter our room.

He's standing by the window, only wearing a towel around his waist. Probably been taking a shower again. It's like he's trying to wash his sins away, a feeling I can very well relate to. He tenses when I come in, I don't know why, he should sense me long before I reach the door.

“What are you looking at?”

“The dark.”

“Oh.”

For a long time we stand in silence, side by side. His fingers brush over mine and we entwine them. Suddenly he glances up at me with a strange look in his eyes.

“Reckon I should be able to leave soon.”

“What?”

He turns away again and resumes his stare out the window.

“I'm just about healed. I know I'm a bit off in the head, but that's no shocker. Took you hundred years to get it right, I'll try to beat the record. 'Tis all right, you've done your job, about time I skittered.”

I'm stunned. Why is he doing this?

“Spike, I don't think that's such a good idea. Sometimes you don't even know where you are. And you have no chance off defending yourself if…you know, if they're human.”

He flinches but continues to gaze out into the night.

“'Tis all right. I won't get myself in such a mess again. I can feel when I'm about to drift off so I'll just have to …”

“No!! No way. I'm not going to lie here worrying about you 24/7. Listen, I know we have our difficulties but we'll work through them. Okay?”

He drops his head in submission and nods. When he looks up again his eyes are blank and his hand is shaking. He releases my hand and walks back to bed, patiently waiting for his drink.

“Spike.”

He looks up, empty blue orbs staring at me. Maybe this is too abrupt but it has to be done.

“We can't do that anymore. I'm back on pigs' blood and you have to do that too. There are some clothes in that bag; Fred picked them out for you. If you come down I'll have some blood heated for you.”

I don't know what I expected but certainly not the obedient nod he gives me. I look for some signs that he's angry but his vacant gaze gives nothing away. He's trembling slightly as he slowly gets up to fetch the clothes. I don't even notice that I'm staring until he's removed his towel and turns around to face me. The old Spike would have cocked an eyebrow but this one merely stands still, looking at me. I cringe and turn away, slowly walking out the door, closing it behind me.  
…  
…

Ten minutes later he comes walking down the stairs, slowly, like every step is a journey. Even though he's started to fill out, the clothes are loose. He's wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Hmm, I forgot Fred had never seen him before that day in the lobby. Well, he doesn't look much like the old Spike these days anyway. Ruffled non-bleached curls, new clothes and haunted eyes. He's got his old boots on though, but Fred had them cleaned and polished. As he descents all eyes turn on him, not surprising. They haven't been much upstairs those last weeks. He's had a habit of forgetting to put on clothes, the ones I lent him didn't fit anyway, so after a few oopses and embarrassed retreats they just left him to me.

I can't help feeling proud of the admiring glances he gets. Without the bruises and injuries he's quite a sight. Too thin, though. But I know his strength is almost back to normal. Just wish I could say the same about his mind. He keeps his gaze lowered until he's almost down. Then his eyes sweep the lobby, maybe looking for potential threats, or just criticizing Cordy's decorating. I walk towards him, mug in hand. He doesn't meet my eyes, just thanks me quietly and sips. A slight tension of the jaw, otherwise no mention of the taste. He walks around quietly, brushing the counter with his fingers, slowly taking everything and everybody in. The others are trying to look unaffected but I can feel the tension and I know he can too. He turns toward the sofa and stops.

“Buffy brought it. She said you left it at her house.” Even though I don't add, “when you tried to rape her” the words hang in the air. “She thought you might want it.”

He slowly picks up the leather duster, strokes it gently with his palm and inhales its scent before putting it back.

“Ta, mate.”

He walks up the stairs and out into the backyard. All his movements are so slow, like he's moving in water. I'm left in the lobby, wondering if I should follow him, if he's going to take off.

“How is he? He looks all right. Rather quiet. But some people are, you know, quiet, I mean. Is he? You know, usually?”

Well, as I said, she didn't know him before. He's not the Spike I know. The one who would throw fits over nothing, who'd laugh and swear and grab any opportunity to embarrass or shock. Who'd punch me just for the fun of it, who'd never let a girl go by without whistling or flicking his tongue. I never thought I 'd say this but I really do miss him.

“Yeah, man. Guess he got his broody mood from you.”

Well, that would make his day.

“Do you think it's all right if I go out and talk to him?”

“It should be all right, Fred, he can't hurt you.”

“God, no, that's not what I meant, I just wondered if he might want to be alone.”

I look at her in wonder. No matter how broken Spike looks, I always see him as a vampire. She only sees him as a man.

“Why don't you just ask him?”

SPIKE'S POV

'Tis quiet out here. Muffled sound of traffic, not many out an' about at this time at night, though. Pleasant fragrance of flowers an' dirt. Well, as the man said, 'the flowers smell sweeter the closer you are to the grave'. Guess I'm smelling the roses. Can even whiff a faint trace of sun if I inhale deeply enough. Door opening, fluttering heartbeat.

“'Tis all right. I won't bite.”

“Oh. Hi. We haven't really been introduced properly, you know, since you were pretty much in a coma last time I saw you. I'm Fred.”

“I know, luv. Heard ya talking when I was out. Cheers, you know, for everything.”

“Oh, no trouble, none at all. How are you doing? You seem awful quiet, well, now that is, you've been talking your head off the last couple of weeks. Not that I've been listening, just you've been kinda loud…sometimes…”

“Yeah, sorry 'bout that. My mind's a bit off, comes an' goes.”

“No, no, I didn't mean to…it's just that I was like that, not so long ago, still am occasionally. Nothing wrong with a bit of rambling. After spending five years alone in a cave you tend to go a bit wacky, but it's all right, I'm much better now. And…and you will too, be all right, I mean.”

“S'pose I will.”

She sits quiet for a while, twirling her hair between her fingers.

“Is there anything I can do for you? Anything you need?”

“Don't s'pose you could get some fags, luv? Know I should quit, 'specially since I've been off 'em so long, but old habits, you know?”

“Fags? Like …guys? I don't know if…”

“Sorry, pet, ciggies, you know, smokes?”

“Oh…sure, no problem, any particular brand?”

“Nah, don't matter. As long as they're not menthol. Hold on, I might have some in my pocket, won't ya be a luv an' check my duster?”

“Sure, sure, I'll only be a moment.”

“Take your time, pet, take your time.”

I just need to pull myself together before she comes out again.

**Now there's a tasty young treat if I ever saw one. Bet she tastes like …**

Shut up! Leave her alone. She's nice an' innocent an' …

**Yeah, I know, just the way ya like it, innit? She likes you. Reckons you're a broken birdie she can nurse. Be like stealing sweets from a lil' girl, hey? Bet ya she's sweet. Come on, then, take a bite. Can't stand that sodding pig blood, gimme something sweet.**

No! I can't, I won't. Angel…

**What? Angel what? You're waiting for Angel to sweep you up in his arms, are ya? You know he's never gonna take you back. Can't stand touching you, ya filthy bugger. Who knows where ya been, tumbling wi' the fucking humans an' what not's. Never gonna touch ya there again, is he? Might as well look for other fishies.**

'Tis not like that. He just…

**Just what? I'll bet ya a thousand quid he's looking for a way to get rid off ya, just in a way that won't muck with his conscience. He doesn't give a rat's arse about you, I'm telling ya, just wait, you'll be out on the street before you can say…**

Shut up! Shut up! I'm not gonna eat the bint, I'm not gonna rabbit off an' I'm not gonna listen to YOU!!!

**Now we're getting there. Keep that anger up, might even grow your bollocks back. Gettin' tired of all that snivellin' crap.**

Piss off! Jus' piss off you bastard! Leave me alone or I'll…

**Or what? You gonna cry me to death? Come on then, you miserable fuck. Come on then, show me some fangs. Charming. An' now… turn around.**

“Spike? Are you all right? Ohhh”

“What? Don't fancy me no more? Don't fancy this face? Same as on your boss, ya know, 'cept a lot prettier. No? 'Course not, got your big blackie to hump. I can hear ya, you know. Bloody loud you are. 'Oh, Gunn! Yes, yes.' Christ, learn some new lines, will ya. No, no, no, you're not going anywhere. Feeling a bit peckish, you know, pigs blood just not what it used to be. Oh, feel free to cry, 'tis not worth it if they don't cry… Aaarghh.”

 

ANGEL'S POV

“What happened?”

“You tried to bite Fred, but your chip kicked in.”

“Oh. OH! Oh Christ! She all right?”

“Freaked but unharmed otherwise, yes. You're lucky Gunn's not around. What the hell are you up to?”

“Can't remember. I made her go inside 'cause I could feel me slipping, but…but I didn't even know she came back.”

“You could feel yourself slipping? In what way? Spike, you have to tell me. We've got to get it under control.”

“Jus', he starts talking an' then I'm lost.”

“He? He who?”

“I mean me, I mean the other me, the demon.”

“He talks to you?”

“Yeah, nasty bugger. Can't get him to shut up. He's trying to get me to loose control, guess he managed.”

“Spike, what does he say?”

He looks down, avoiding my eyes.

“Can't really remember, trying to get me to bite an' such.”

“That's all he's talked about? From the beginning?”

“Nah, not so much. Jus' now.”

Because I made him drink pigs blood. Damn, I knew it was stupid to stop cold turkey.

“So what else does he talk about?”

He's squirming by now, avoiding my stare, picking on a torn nail.

“Stuff, you know. People being dead, blood flowing, all that shit. Bu...Buffy an' the others. Us.”

That last word is said so quietly I hardly hear it.

“What about us?”

“Angel, I'm bloody shagged out. Can we please talk about this later?”

“Spike, I want to know what he says about us. He talks about me?”

“Don't remember. Don't make me remember.“

Silence.

“Spike? Come on, I need to know.”

Silence, his eyes are shut tight and I can smell the tears he's trying to hide. I gently touch his cheek.

“William?”

“No! Don't touch me!! Filthy, filthy, can't clean, can never clean. Spit an' shower, she did. Spit an' shower. Not good enough for her, never good enough for him, won't touch me, won't touch my filth. Dirty stinking, not good enough, never good enough.”

I can't help recoiling slightly. My movement makes him flinch and he shuffles backwards away from me.

“Can still smell 'em. Sweat an' dirt an' piss. Won't touch, never touch”

Suddenly he starts sobbing like a child.

“No, he said…he said he loved me. His boy, I'm his boy, his lil' one.”

With that he breaks down, his body shaking and his eyes shut tight, blocking out the world, lost to his own anguish. I pick him up gently and make to carry him in and upstairs. When I turn around Fred is in the doorway, tears in her eyes.

“Fred, I'm so sorry. I'll try to find a place for him as soon as I can.”

“No, it's all right. Got a bit scared that's all. He doesn't know what he's doing and he…he's in so much pain. I don't blame him but I think we better not tell Charles about what happened. He's not getting any better?”

“Not much. I'm at a loss what I should do. I just know it's going to take some time for him to learn to control his demon. Took me almost a century and he still peaks out from time to time. But there has to be some way to make this easier on him.”

Together we walk up the stairs. By now he's quiet in my arms but he's still shivering. I lay him on the bed, take off his boots and put a blanket over him. He whimpers when I pull away and the trembling gets worse. We stand for a while watching him.

“Is it true what he said?”

“What?”

“About you.”

“What about me?”

“Do you find him disgusting?”

“NO!! Why, why would you say that? I care about him, he's my family.”

“Angel, I know you don't just 'care about him'. I mean that much is obvious. But does it repulse you what he has become?”

“What do you mean? What has he become?”

“Maybe not so much what he has become, but more what he sees himself as, you know”

“No, I don't know! Fred, can you please just tell me where you're going with this.”

“Well it's pretty clear. He wants you but he thinks you find him filthy, because of, you know, what they did to him. So do you?”

“What! He thinks what? How, how do you, why do you think that?”

“Well duh, it's pretty obvious. Not many who call him 'his boy,' are there? He loves you too, you know. And I don't mean in a father-son kind of way, but in the…well you know, other way.”

I look at her in shock and then back at the slight body under the blanket. His trembling is getting slower, he seems to be sleeping.

“No. He could never disgust me. Look how beautiful he is. I just thought…you know, half the time he doesn't even know where he is. I can't…it wouldn't be right.”

“So you rejected him?”

“No! Well, yes but… it's complicated. I thought…I mean when he…I can smell the fear on him. What he went through, I'm surprised he wants to at all. I'm just afraid he's doing it because he thinks he has to.”

“Being raped doesn't always have that effect on you. Sometimes you just ache for someone to be kind to you, someone who wants you because he loves you and not just because he's horny and you happen to be there.”

I look at her hesitantly. She smiles at me sadly.

“You didn't think they only kept humans for shovelling muck, did you?”

“Oh God, Fred, I'm so sorry. I never even thought…”

“I know; none of you did. It's okay, just don't tell Charles.”

We stand in silence for a while, and then she gives me a small hug and turns to leave. When she reaches the door she looks back.

“He needs to know how you feel. Don't shut him out.” And then she's gone.

I stand for a while looking down at Will before I undress, first him, then myself and slide in beside him, pulling him into my arms. He soon calms down and I purr to make him relax further. I kiss him softly and nuzzle at his neck. After a while he stirs and opens his eyes. He's about to say something when I scratch my neck and pull him towards the wound. He lies completely still for what seems like an eternity before latching on. It doesn't take me long to get rock-hard. As soon as he notices he goes rigid. I kiss his shoulder and whisper softly in his ear.

“It's all right. You don't have too, but if you want to we can. I'll take care of you no matter what. No strings. Just do what you want.”

He hiccups slightly before hesitantly moving his hand downwards. As soon as he touches me I gasp and shudder. He stops, uncertain of what to do.

“God, Will, I've missed this. I've missed you so much, little one, it's all right.”

His fingers stroke me, first hesitantly, and then more decisively when I start to moan. I sneak my hand down as well and gently touch him. He arches into my touch; his sucking on my neck grows fiercer. We lie like this slowly stroking each other until I start to feel faint. I gently ease him off my neck and kiss his lips. Softly at first but he responds with force and soon I'm drowning in his kiss. Suddenly he lets go of me and slides down the bed. I'm about to sit up when I feel his cool lips swallowing me.  
God, it's good.  
What am I saying? It's heaven! I've been longing for this so long I can't make it last and soon I'm coming with a shudder. He crawls back up, licking his lips and it's the most erotic sight I've ever seen. I kiss him with passion and he sighs. I'm about to return the favour when I feel him slacking and when I look down he's in deep sleep. I stroke his hair leisurely while slipping a hand down where he's still hard as a rock. I stroke him tenderly until my eyes feel heavy and then there's no more.


	6. Chapter 6

ANGEL'S POV

When I wake up, the sun is still high in the sky and I'm wondering why I'm not still asleep. Then I realize that something is missing. He is missing. I look around and there he stands by the window, trailing his finger on the glass. I can smell a hint of smoke and I leap up, pull him away, drag him into the bathroom and put his hand under streaming cold water. There are blisters on his fingers, but nothing more serious.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?”

“Nothing. Jus' thinking.”

“Thinking with your hand on fire?”

“Sorry, didn't notice.”

“What's wrong? Is it…is it because of what I... I mean what we did?”

He looks up puzzled. “Did?”

“You know, the…you know. Is it because we touched, because I touched you, because I let you… touch me?”

By now he looks genuinely alarmed. “You did? We did?”

How can he not remember? Was it that bad?

“You don't remember?”

“No. Did I hurt you?”

“No! Of course not. What's the last thing you remember before waking up?”

He looks down ashamed.

“That poor lil' bint. You telling me I tried to bite her. An'…an' me telling ya 'bout the demon.”

“Nothing after that?”

He shakes his head, obviously uncomfortable, like a school kid that's being grilled about something he didn't study. I'm completely at loss here. I've just as much told him what we did, but now I don't even know if it was him or someone else I was kissing last night. And doing other things to.

“Okay, Spike. We need to talk. Actually we talked some last night but since you don't remember I guess we'll have to start again.” And God, how much easier this was in the dark, this seems kind of sterile.

“Please, can we just sit down on the bed, or rather, be in the bed if that's all right with you, I'm way too tired to do this standing up.” And naked.

We crawl under the covers again and I pull him into my arms. He tenses for a moment before leaning back.

“Do you remember what happens when you're… adrift?”

“Not much. Bits an' pieces. 'Tis a right shamble in here, ya know?” He taps his head.

“Well the thing is, you talk a lot. And what you're saying is rather…disturbing.”

“Sorry, mate. Scare the others, do I?

“No, no, it's not that. It's just that you seem to… well, you have a rather low opinion on yourself. And you shouldn't...you know...have that.”

“Yeah, right. 'Cause I'm such a terrific fella. Have you forgotten, what I am? I'm a bloody vampire, mate. Maybe not the Scourge of Europe, but a close second.”

“That's not what I mean. I get that, the guilt, the self-hatred. Been doing this a lot longer than you. But I'm talking about the other stuff.” I take a deep breath. “Spike, what those men did to you makes them no better than you, worse in fact, because they're supposed to be souled human beings. The things they did…it wasn't your fault. It's not your punishment for what you've done. And it doesn't make you any less.”

By now he's jumped up and is pacing back and forth, straining to keep his emotions in control.

“How can you say that? I'm a bloody vampire, for Christ sake. Time was I'd ripped their hearts out for just looking at me the wrong way. Now I can't do anything, can't hunt, can't hurt, can't kill!” He pauses; looking puzzled for a moment before continuing. “Can't even defend myself."

“You'd think I'd be used to it by now. Started as soon as I got this bloody chip. Got buggered one night when I was completely rat arsed. Happened again a few weeks later, sober that time unfortunately. Seem the word got around; pretty blond vampire up for the taking, just make him hit you once an' he's flat out. Bloody hard fighting back when you've got red-hot pokers running through your head… no pun intended.”

He stops by the window again, not close enough to get burned but only just. The anger in his voice is gone, nothing left but quiet, cold austerity.

“Learned pretty fast to recognize that look in their eyes an' rabbit off. Didn't always make it though. Hard time keeping up your strength when you can't hunt. Running low on dosh, nicked what I could, tried to make the few quid the Watcher tossed my way last for blood an' fags, but ol' JD got most. So I had to find another way. Easy money, really.”

It takes me a moment to figure out what he means, but then it hits me, and the images make me growl with anger. The sound startles him, as if he's forgotten I'm here. I can see him struggling with his emotions but when he looks up there's a smirk on his face, Spike ready for action.

“What? You shocked? Time was you had me on my knees, Angelus. Give Daddy a blow an' he'll let you out of 'em shackles. Up with your arse an' you'll get to go out an' hunt. Or perhaps you've forgotten all that. S'pose it wasn't that memorable, probably blends in with all your other fun times.”

The hate in his voice makes me cringe. How could I ever think he wanted me? It's obvious he detest the memory of those times. No wonder, they're not all that pleasant. But some of them were, at least to me. But I'm starting to doubt if my recollection of the old days is as accurate as I thought. Maybe they were all horror and humiliation to him. I suddenly realize he's staring at me. I look up and his face looks so angry but the eyes show such hurt I can't help lowering my head in shame. He comes towards me and I hunch, waiting for the lashing. Instead I feel a cool hand brushing my cheek.

SPIKE'S POV

God, I hate myself. He's trying to be all noble an' I throw that in his face. Probably gonna go all broody on me now. Fuck, I can never say the right thing.  
  
“Sorry, mate. Dunno what came over me. You didn't deserve that. No hard feelings, hey?”

Didn't mean to tell him 'bout all that. Some things are better left unsaid. Well, now he knows, his lil' Will's a filthy whore. Just someone to be used an' tossed away. Wonder if that will make him want me more or less? Easy come, easy go, out on me arse an' soon forgotten. He looks sad. Maybe I should cheer him up?

“So you touched me?” He looks up surprised with guilt in his eyes. “Too bad I can't remember. You wanna do it again?”

“No!”

No, course not, not gonna touch me after hearing 'bout all that. Better get my clothes on. Must leave, can't stay here, not when he looks at me like that. Probably thinking what has become of his childe, such a disgrace, putting shame on the family name. I'm just 'bout to grab my pants when he touches my arm.

“Spike, I didn't mean it like that. God, I can't believe you can't remember. I told you all of this last night. I don't care about the others, not in that way. I want to rip their lungs out, but that's anger, not disgust. Well okay, disgust also, but it's not directed at you. You do not disgust me, Will, you could never disgust me. I would love to touch you, but only if that's what you want. Not as a payment or because I'm your Sire.”

He lays a palm on my cheek and I can't help leaning into it. He looks into my eyes with such concern an'…love? I'm trying to keep my wall up but I can feel it crumbling. He jus' stares at me an' I'm wondering what's going through that gelled head of his when he suddenly leans in an' kisses me. His lips are so soft an' unsure that I kiss him back with all the passion I've kept bottled up the last weeks. Can't believe we did this last night and I can't remember. He's taken aback for a split second but then he returns my kiss with such force 'tis like he's gonna swallow me. I know I don't have to breathe but if I don't I think I'm gonna pass out. I push him off and pant; Christ, I'm hyperventilating. Some vampire I am. I can see the guilt creeping in on him again so I take his hand an' stagger to the bed, falling backwards. He hovers over me, unsure of what to do. I manage to calm down an' grin at him.

“Come on, Peaches, are you jus' gonna stand there or are you gonna give me some more smoochies. Haven't had such a good snog since, well, last time you shagged me. So what's it gonna be?”

ANGEL'S POV

I stare at him. This Spike changes moods so often I have no idea what to think. Is this the real one or will he have forgotten all about this the next time he wakes up? I don't know if I could handle that.

“Spike? You sure? Not going to black out and forget it all again?”

“Dunno. You better make it memorable.” He smirks. “That is, if you haven't forgotten how to do this, being a monk an' what all. Come on, stop fart-arseing about an' get in here.”

Okay, this is definitely the Spike I know.

“I'm not a monk. And if you don't watch out I'm going to show you exactly how much I haven't forgotten.”

“Promise?”

“Oh yes. Going to wipe that smirk of your face,” I kiss him passionately, “and replace it with a bigger one.” He laughs heartily and it sounds divine. “God, I love you.”

His laughter stops shortly and for a moment I don't know if I messed everything up again. Then he smiles at me. “Yeah, I know you do." He lies back, hands under his head and watches me seductively. “Why don't ya show me how much?”

I laugh softly, a touch of Angelus in my eyes. I run a finger down his cheek, his chest and all the way to his nest of curls, whirling around there, never touching his penis. He closes his eyes and shivers slightly. I crouch and run my tongue the same trail, then blowing on it lightly, making his hairs stand up on end. He tastes so good I have to restrain myself from licking his entire body. But then again, why restrain myself?

I start at his chest, swirling around his nipples, biting them slightly, softly kissing the scar above his heart, then moving down, kissing and licking my way. He's so thin, his stomach is caved in and I can count his ribs. I swirl my tongue in his navel, then move further down, still not touching his erection. Hard work though, because it sways impatiently, trying to catch my attention. I move up to his chest again, my tongue leaving a trail of saliva, then up his neck. When I get there I start nibbling carefully with my blunt teeth. A moan tells me he's loving it. He suddenly grabs my head, forces me down to his lips, and ravages my mouth. He slips into gameface, pierces my tongue, slips back, and then starts sucking the wound. It's almost enough to make me come on the spot. While he's at it, his fingers run up and down my spine, like tiny electric charges. After a while I pull back, panting.

“Thought I was suppose to show you?”

He chuckles.

“Well, ya know, not really one to jus' lay back. Anyway 'tis not quite the way I remember. Used to be more blood an' less cuddling. Thought I'd see if that still works. Guess it does.” He smirks.

I laugh and bite his ear. “Oh, you'll get your blood. Or mine, whichever comes first. But not yet.”

And with that I flip him over and continue my teasing, along his back and down to his ass. When I get there I bite him gently right behind the left buttock. I laugh quietly at his gasping. Nope, nothing forgotten here. And if my memory serves me well, there's this spot on his right side, right below the rib cage. Yep, there it is. By now he's writhing beneath me, panting and moaning. I bite gently with blunt teeth all over his cheeks and as he's lost in the sensation I part them slightly giving him thus no warning before I suddenly lick him quickly across his entrance. The gentle touch makes him arch of the bed, crying my name out. I push him back down and then resume my licking. Slowly I probe him with my tongue, pushing in as far as I can reach. He moans loudly and pushes back against me. God, he's tight. I push further in, then pull out my tongue and before he's time to complain I slide my fangs into his cheek. His cry fills the room before he's time to stifle it in the pillow. I just hope Fred and Gunn aren't anywhere near. The thought bothers me for a second but the smell of blood helps me get my priorities straight. I lap it up savouring the taste. Haven't tasted his blood in a long while and that's a real shame. The tiny holes soon close and I flip him over again. His eyes are closed and he's bitten through his lip, it's smeared crimson. I take a brief moment to lick the blood off but move away before he can catch me for a kiss. It's time to get reacquainted with another part of his body.

I blow softly on the tip of his glistening erection. He shivers and moans. I then slowly run my tongue up his shaft, swirl around the head, catching those precious drops and then swiftly swallow him all the way. Just as well I don't have to breath. He starts thrusting into my mouth, one hand grabbing my head, fingers digging into my scalp. The other arm is thrown across his eyes, hiding his face. When I can feel his testicles tightening, I quickly wet my finger and push it into his entrance. That's all he needs and he comes with a shudder, no sound escaping his lips. God, he tastes good. I lick him clean before moving up and taking him in my arms.

“Believe me, Will. Nothing filthy down there. Just taste for yourself.” And I kiss him tenderly. He starts weeping so I hold him tight until the trembling stops.

“Thank you.” His voice is quiet.

“You're welcome.”

“Did I…was I all right?”

His words startle me, bringing back memories of another small blonde, asking me almost the same question.

“Yes, Will, my boy. You were wonderful.”

We lie in silence a long time. Then he starts breathing slowly so I guess he's asleep.

“I love you, Will.” His breathing stops for a moment and I freeze, but then it resumes and soon I join him.  
…

 

When I wake up he's propped up, gazing into my eyes. We lie that way for a long time before he sighs and kisses me deeply. I give him a tender smile.

“Looking for something specific?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you find it?”

“Think so.” He smiles back at me and then relaxes down on his pillow. We lie together, side by side, staring up into the ceiling.

“I wish we could see the stars.”

“If you want to, we can go out on the roof tonight. Just you and me and the stars. To reminisce…or just fuck.”

That makes him laugh. “Hoy, you talk to your lil' pets wi' that mouth?”

“They're not my pets. More like my…”

“Family?” His voice is quiet.

“Well in a way, yeah. But not in the same way as you are, or Drusilla for that matter.”

“Well, duh! For a start they're not bonkers. No, I take that back, the bird's definitely a bit barmy. But they're not blood sucking demons. I'd say that makes quite a change.” His laugh is bitter.

“I was going to say they're not my blood.”

“Oh.”  
…

“Do you miss Dru?”

“Always. Doesn't mean I'd go back to her though. Not now anyway. Jus' miss her insane babbling now an' again.”  
  
“Yeah, I know what you mean. She does have her moments.”

He smiles and snuggles up to me. I guess this is as good time as any.

“Talking about family, there's something I have to tell you.”


	7. Chapter 7

SPIKE'S POV

“The bitch came back human an' Dru sired her, thus becoming her grandmas mum. Well, I knew that much.”

He looks surprised.

“Dru came by after you torched her.”

That makes him cringe. Not feeling to good 'bout that, hey?

“Don't matter. So you shagged her an' knocked her up, she spawned an evil son who then tried to kill you after spending his upbringing in a hell dimension, provided by your dear ol' pal Holtz with a helping hand from the Watcher.”

“Well, that's it in a nutshell, but Connor's not really evil. He just didn't have a very good role model.”

“No kidding.”  
…  
…  
“Does he know 'bout me?”

“Yeah, he came by while you were in a coma. He didn't take it very well.”

“So I can expect some stakes flying my way, then?”

“I'll talk to him.”

I nod to myself. Wouldn't mind giving the brat a few lessons me self. Teach him how he's supposed to treat family. I mean, a healthy dose of violence an' torture's all right but that ocean caper's just too much.

“Spike. Spike!”

“Huh? What?”

“You're not going to do anything to him. He's my son and I'll deal with him in my own way.”

“Yeah, yeah. Wasn't thinking 'bout that anyway.” Try to look innocent and a bit hurt. The 'how can you think that 'bout me' pout.

“Liar.”

“Poof.” Now we're back on familiar ground. He could never win those fights.

“Says who? You shouldn't throw stones, you know.”

“What? I'm no poof. I'm the Big Bad an' don't you forget it.” Tough look, flex a bit of muscle.

“So I'm the poof?”

“Yeah.”

“But not you?”

“No.”

“Even though we just made love and you cried like a baby. Not to mention the soul we have in common.”

“Hey! At least I don't say, 'make love'. An' then you have the poofy hair.”

“Have you looked at yourself lately? No, I guess you haven't. I got to tell you, Spike, those honey curls aren't really punk fashion.”

WHAT!?!

“WHAT!?!”

I run my fingers through my hair. Blimey, he's right. I can't see the colour but it's definitely longer an'… curly? Christ, I must look like the wanker I was as a human. Only need my glasses an' William the-bloody-awful-poet is back. A pathetic snivelling wimp.

“I like it though. Makes you look cute.”

“Cute! CUTE!!” Who's he calling cute, that bastard. I am just about to punch him when he reaches out an' strokes my hair tenderly.

“Reminds me of the old days. Will.”

I look at him, not quite knowing what to say. But the moment is lost when a scream is heard from downstairs.

“Damn! Fred! I got to go.”

An' wi' that he pulls on clothes an' is gone quicker than a lightning. Should I go down? Could be a real emergency. Or could be a rat, women are like that. Well, some are…come to think of it the only one I remember being scared of rats is Harris.

Maybe I should jus' wait here for Angel to come back. Angel. Who'd thought it work out this way between us? Doubt I would have come here if my mind had been in its right place. Didn't exactly expect hugs an' kisses after that whole Marcus-thing. Can't believe I did that. Angel hasn't mentioned it so maybe I should jus' stay off that topic. Hang on, I think I'm brooding! Oh bugger. So now we're brooding buddies on top of everything else. I really am turning into a nancy-boy…  
Someone's at the door. I should have smelled him sooner, God, someone give that kid a bath an' a haircut. He stands there looking at me like I'm the scum of the earth.

“So you must be the brat. Love the look.”

He stares at me with contempt. Well, I'm used to that.

“Demon. You have no place here. If you don't leave I shall kill you.”

“Now hold on. See, what I heard is you don't even live here, you sod. Daddy threw you out. Got a bit testy after you tried to kill him. Now, if I'd been here you would be chained up in the basement by now.”

The brat doesn't even seem to hear me. He jus' looks me over an' sniffs.

“So I was right. You are fucking my father.”

Well, even without the super-nose he should have sensed that earlier 'cause it smells like a brothel in here.

“Oh, yeah. Nothing like a family reunion, you know.”

Feel bad 'bout saying that, like it means nothing. But the whelp is pissing me off, I jus' really want to kick him. An' since the chip won't make me do it properly…

“Shut up!! You're not family! You're a disgusting demon.”

“Well, takes one to know one, mate.”

“I'm not your mate. And I'm not a demon.”

“Maybe not, but you were made by demons. My Sire an' grandsire, to be exact, so I guess that makes you…”

“Shut up! I'm not your brother. You're filth, you're nothing.”

His words sting, I can't help it. I'm not quite sure how to react since he looks like he's gonna pounce on me any second an' since he's human that leaves me on the short stick. I'm 'bout to try an' calm him down when he seems to come to a decision, 'cause he smiles an' the resemblance to Angelus is bloody frightening.

“I'd thought you would have gotten that beaten into you by now. Guess not. Well, I can fix that.”

The kid's a complete nutter. Before I know it he's lounged at me an' is hitting me again an' again. Smashes my mouth, throws me off the bed, an' starts kicking' me over an' over. Christ, I can't do this again. Angel…

“He's not coming to save you. Fred got him pretty occupied with that rat I sent her. Thought that would get him out of the room.”

'So, it was a rat', I think before I pass out.

ANGEL'S POV

I just don't get it. Who would send Fred a rat? Like there aren't enough of them in the basement. It takes me quite a while to calm her down. Not so much the rat but more the thought of someone sending it specifically to her that freaked her out. At last Gunn came back and I could deliver her safely into his arms. Not too good at the whole hugging and kissing thing, well not with the humans anyway. A certain vampire on the other hand… The thought of Spike makes my heart leap and I wonder if he's still waiting naked on the bed. That would be nice.

As soon as I reach the floor I know something is wrong. There's a smell of blood, Will's blood, and something else. I rip open the door and at first I can't see him. He's lying on the other side of the bed, half-wrapped in the blanket, his face and body again covered in bruises and blood. The sight makes me growl, but not as much as the other smell I now recognise. Connor. I can't believe this. My son has beaten my defenceless childe into a pulp.

I lift him onto the bed and softly brush his hair. In a while he starts moving and slowly he opens his one eye that isn't swollen. Thank God, at least he hasn't sunk back into his coma.

“Shhh, Will, it's all right, he's gone.” He tries to move but winces when his battered body protests.

“Angel…Connor.” His voice is barely audible.

“I know, I know. I'll deal with him.”

“No.”

“What! Spike, he's out of control.”

“Wait. I'll go.”

“Spike you're in no condition to go anywhere and anyway he's my responsibility.”

He doesn't answer, just coughs and closes his eyes. I start cleaning and dressing his wounds. The smell of his blood is maddening and my demon screams at me to crush Connor for this. But my soul quiets him down, he needs punishment, yes, but I'll have to find a way to make my two children able too exist together. Finally he's all patched up and I take him in my arms to feed him. He lies still for a long time before latching on and then he only takes a little.

“Spike, you need your strength.”

“'Tis all right. Jus' need to sleep.”

He curls up and is soon breathing quietly. I lie there looking at him. I thought what happened would cripple him emotionally again but he seems calm about it. I sigh and ease myself from under him. Time to deal with my other offspring.

SPIKE'S POV

Thought he'd never leave. The pain's killing me. Who'd think the lad had so much strength in those scrawny arms? God, he hates me. Not that I like him but I'd never hurt him. Not much anyway. Not like this. He's Angel's son after all. A part of that white picket fence dream I know he has. Maybe not quite the way he imagined it but still…  
I can't stay. Not gonna be responsible for making his son hate him. He deserves more than that. Jus' need to get up an' find my clothes. The room swings for a moment but then it stops an' I manage to get dressed without falling over. No broken bones this time so I'll be all right. Can already feel the wounds closing an' the swelling going down. Guess he lost his enthusiasm a bit after I blacked out.

'K, where're my boots? I stumble over to the chair an' pull them on. My duster's still downstairs. Don't know if I want it though, it smells of her an' ol' memories. I sit still listening for a moment. No heartbeats in the hotel. Angel prob'ly sent the lil' bint an' her hunky boyfriend out in case there'd be more surprises. I limp over to his closet an' there's a leather jacket. A bit big but 'tis all right. It smells of him an' that's all that matters. Hope 'tis not his favourite. The thought of him cursing me for stealing his clothes makes me giggle hysterically. Prob'ly gonna notice it gone before... Christ, stop snivelling, ya bloody wanker. Must get out before he gets back.

ANGEL'S POV

Can't believe how good he's gotten at hiding in L.A. Thought I found him a couple of times but each time he had vanished. Wonder if he got those stealthy moves from me or just by being brought up in Quor-toth. This game could go on forever and I just don't have time for that. I'm worried about Spike. The assault had clearly shaken him even though he tried to hide it. Now I regret not leaving Fred to look after him, but she and Gunn had some supper plans. And she needed to get out for a while after that whole rat-thing. I just hope he's okay.

First I think he's out in the garden and curse him for going out alone. But as I turn around to storm downstairs I notice that the closet is slightly ajar. When I open it I see that one of my jackets is missing. One of my old ones, before I started putting on a little more… muscle. And with a pang I know that's he's not just gone out, he's gone.  
…  
…  
…  
What kind of fucking detective am I? I've been searching now for five weeks and there's no sign of Spike. I tracked his scent through the sewers but he'd left his socks and shreds of a bloodied t-shirt here and there and finally I completely lost him. I've searched every seedy bar in L.A., every hotel, even the Salvation Army. I've searched all the cemeteries and churches, fuck I even called Buffy and admitted that I'd lost our boy. She was pretty mad at me but promised to let me know if she heard anything. Nothing so far.

My frantic search has made me put everything else on hold. I know demons are making L.A their party-town now they know I'm preoccupied but I just can't seem to care. I need my boy back. I tried a locator spell but it failed. Like he'd managed to block it somehow. I even got Connor to help me after I finally found him and gave him a piece of my mind. He wasn't too proud of what he'd done. He said he'd only wanted to talk to Spike, he'd been watching us the past weeks and was feeling pretty jealous. But apparently the obvious evidence of our relationship had thrown him off and Spike's comments had infuriated him further until he snapped. Connor claimed to have forgotten about the chip, that Spike wouldn't be able to defend himself, and when he heard me coming back upstairs, he realised what he was doing and fled. I'm not sure I believe him, about forgetting the chip. Sometimes I think I see a flicker of Angelus in his eyes and the possibility scares me. Not that it should be a surprise, the child of two vampires…that he isn't more like his parents is a miracle.

Five weeks. For five weeks Spike's been out on his own. Does he still 'slip'? Does he wake up in places he can't remember? Has he been…attacked? Is he hurt? Is he sane? Is he still alive? I've had no dreams even if I pray for them every time I go to sleep. I can't feel him anywhere.

I know I'm sinking into depression. I lock myself in my room, lights off, listening to the sounds of L.A. Every now and then they bang on my door, asking me if I'm all right. When I don't answer they stand outside for a while before sighing and going away. He's gone. He's gone and I'll probably never see him again.  
…  
…  
…  
“Angel.”

“Angel, telephone.”

“Angel, it's Lorne, he says he really needs to talk to you.”

“Angel, he says it's about the one you asked him about.”

Huh?

“Please, Angel, he says it really important. Something about your tormented soulmate, I think he means Spike…”

I wrench open the door and fly down the stairs before she finishes her sentence.

“Yes?”

“There you are. Well, cupcakes, you'll never guess who I ran into last night. Well, not as much ran into, more walked past. Just minding my own business, eyeing some gorgeous pants, that happened to hug some munchable Latino….”

“Lorne, tell me. Now!”

“Take it easy, muffin. Anyway, there I was just strolling along when this wonderfully sexy voice just takes my breath away. And by that I mean literally. The pain and sorrow in him, it just hit me with such force that if I hadn't had that lamppost right next to me…”

“Lorne, are you telling me you saw Spike?”

“Who? Could be, I have no idea what his name is, but it's the same one you made me listen too all those weeks ago. If I remember correctly you just hang up and I never heard another word from …”

I slam down the receiver, run up to get some clothes and then out to my car. I don't even take the time to explain to Fred, but I guess she must have figured it out because she gives me a reassuring wave as I run past her. Fortunately it's early dusk and I have plenty of time to get to Las Vegas.

SPIKE'S POV

Christ, there they go again. “You fucking bitch”, “Drunken asshole”. Americans are so skimp when it comes to cursing. He slaps her, she slaps him an' so it goes until they get on to the grunting an' shagging. Every bleeding night's the same. An' that jus' in one flat. This bloody house got 'bout 20 others. Right dump it is too. Bugs in the bathroom, rats squeaking in the night. Can't stand living here. All these sounds of people fighting an' fucking, jus' makes my brain hurt. An' the few times it's quiet at night the beating of all these hearts, the smell of blood an' cum, the silent crying of some unhappy sod, 'tis jus' bloody unbearable. 'Specially when that unhappy sod is me. Maybe I should try an' find a nice crypt at the cemetery. Haven't found any decent ones here. None as fine as my ol' one, anyway.

Managed to scrape together a few quid at the pub last night. A bit of luck that, winning a guitar from some drunken hippie. Well, luck an' some cheating. Been trying to cut back on the drinking, meself. Harder to keep check on my mind when I'm pissed. Been making a progress of some sort though. I'm jus' as barmy but I'm partly in control. He starts talking an' I manage to suppress him until I get home, lock the door an' curl up in my bed. Caught me a few times though. Woke up in the sewers one time, shiner on my eye. Lucky nothing worse happened. Another time I was suddenly in some shitty tarts bed, she was still alive but she had bitemarks all over her an' whatever stuff she had been shooting up her veins made me hallucinate the rest of the day. Reminded me of that time at Woodstock. I couldn't even go home, 'cause of the sun an' all. She wanted to shag some more but the smell made me gag an' I may be a vampire but I still have my standards. Must have been some nice shit though 'cause the visions I got were bloody terrific. None of that guilt stuff, jus' me an' Angel an' for some reason a whole lot of goats.

Getting dark outside. Should be able to get downtown for a bit of gig soon. Got this corner I've adopted. Plenty of people pass there but not so many coppers. Hard trying to keep a low profile while singing. I was gonna keep to my ol' stuff, Sex Pistols an' the likes but people don't wanna hear that. Want some sappy love songs. Makes me seem more pathetic too I guess. They look at me with sorry eyes like I'm a lost puppy. Hey, maybe I should get me a puppy. The bums that got dogs always get more money. Funny, really, how people feel more sorry for the dog than the person.

Right, better be going. Drank the last pint of blood two days ago. Not as hard as I thought getting blood here, no one asks any questions, but it's bloody expensive. Fags, blood an' booze, that's where the money goes, after I pay the rent that is. Feel like a bleeding human. Next thing you know I'll be buying the newspaper an' paying the sodding taxes.

ANGEL'S POV

As soon as Lorne opens the door I barge in.

“Where is he?”

“Now, Angel, honey, I know you don't need an invitation, but it's still polite to wait for one.”

“I'm sorry. Where is he?”

“He's not here. Well, did you expect me to invite home a vampire I know nothing about, even if he has a soul? Especially if the poor thing is unstable.”

“What do you mean, unstable? Lorne, tell me where he is!”

“I can see you left all your manners at home, cupcakes, but if you don't put away those fangs, there will be no talking from this end.”

I hadn't even noticed I'd slipped into gameface. I force it back and sit down on the chair he offers me, even though my demon is screaming for me to just pummel him until he tells me what I need to know. I even give him a little smile but I guess it wasn't too comforting because he backs off and gulps down his drink.

“Okay, I'm calm. I'm sorry for being rude. Can you please tell me where he is?” So what if my teeth grit, I did say please!

“He usually plays down at the corner of Fremont and 3rd. He's not there every night, but they say he's pretty reliable. Gorgeous guy like that, I'm surprised I hadn't heard of him sooner. According to my sources, he's been here for 3 weeks.”

I only half hear his last words because I'm already out the door. Las Vegas has changed a bit since I was here last time, but not so much I don't know my way around. I'm walking down Fremont, trying to keep my speed down to normal, when I can feel him. I slow down and when he comes to sight I stop and gaze at him, unsure of how to proceed. He hasn't noticed me yet. He's playing a guitar and singing with a clear and mesmerising voice. Not the punk-stuff he usually listens to, but something slow and powerful. He has a small crowd around him, listening. He leans back onto the wall, eyes closed, right foot tapping with the rhythm. It's not a song I know, but then again, he never had my taste for classical music. The text seems to be something about a girl…

“Ravens land upon her hair  
Clouds adrift on her skin  
A smile that tugs upon my soul  
and whispers gently in my ear.”

He's singing about Drusilla. Okay, I know he still loves her but…why isn't he singing about me? I'm not being childish. I've thought of nothing but him those five weeks and here he is… calm as a cucumber, probably hasn't spent one thought on me.

“Eyes are east and lips are west  
pulls my head against her breast.  
Logic, north and Lust is south.  
pulls my fingers to her mouth.  
Legs as firm as canyon walls  
from leaping high above the moon.  
When she drifts down on the air.  
the ground can't wait to kiss her toes.”

Okay, maybe he's just singing any old song. Maybe it has nothing to do with Drusilla at all. Maybe he just likes singing about black haired girls. Maybe…But there's a look of longing on his face and I can almost taste his sadness. He slowly opens his eyes as he sings the last lines. For a moment I'm afraid that he's spotted me but he just gazes past me dreamingly. I'm fighting between wanting to stay here, staring at him and the longing to just turn around and walk home. He looks fine, a bit thin but much better than the last time I saw him. He still hasn't cut his hair, except to trim the bleached ends of. He's wearing the same jeans Fred bought him and my leather jacket. It looks good on him even though the sleeves are a bit long. The crowd cheers and throws coins into a empty can on the ground. He takes a swig from a bottle of beer and smiles and flirts with some gawking girls. I feel so left out, the crowd loves him, he obviously likes this life. He doesn't need me. Maybe I should just go…

I'm walking away when he starts singing again and his words catch me. He sounds so sad, so alone. And when I turn back he is staring right into my eyes. Blue orbs like the morning sky, the way I remember it. Full of sadness and fear and…love?

 

SPIKE'S POV

Did he really think I couldn't sense him? Felt his broody wave coming round the corner long before he did. Wasn't quite ready to see him though so I jus' closed my eyes an' kept singing, trying to fight the urge to drop the guitar an' run like my pants were on fire. How did he find me? Not like he was jus' strolling by, the poof knew I was here. Maybe he's got spies working all over. Spying lil' angels looking out for the dead an' desperate. Or maybe I'm jus' being paranoid again. Doesn't seem to like my singing very much, 'cause he's getting broodier by the minute. Can't blame him really, I sound a lot better when I've had a few, at least in my own ears.  
Christ, I have no idea what to say to him. He's prob'ly a bit miffed 'bout me copping off like that. Wish I had something stronger than beer…

Where's he off to? 'S he really gonna leave without even talking to me? I bloody well can't believe this. Looks a bit gutted, shoulders hunched an' thus. Oh for fuck sake, do I have to serenade him? Better pick something meaningful then.

“I once had a friend who I loved from my heart  
But I went on an' left him 'fore I'd made a start  
Now I'm moaning the blues like the rest of the charts  
Take me back

So I'll cry with a limp  
Just get by on a limb  
Till these blue eyes of mine they are closed  
So here's to an old fashioned peck on the cheek  
An' farewell my sweet Northern Rose”

As soon as I start singing again he turns 'round an' this time I catch his eyes an' stare right into them. Dark brown puppy puddles. Full of hurt an' fear an'…love?

“Give me one last love song  
To bring you back, bring you back  
Give me one last video, jus' dressed in black, dressed in black  
Give him a chorus an' that bit at the end  
Where he wails on an' on 'bout the loss of a friend  
Let him scream loudly 'well this love could mend'  
Let it die, let it die”

He walks slowly closer an' the crowd seems to sense something happening 'cause it parts for him 'til he stands right before me. His eyes are turning darker an' darker an' my voice starts trembling 'cause I'm not sure if he's gonna kiss me or kill me.

“Those bloody great ballads we hated at first  
Well I bought them all, now I'm writing worse  
Save us from baldness an' saving the earth  
Take me back…”

He grabs me an' I almost say 'oh, shit' out loud 'fore he crushes his mouth against mine. An' the last thought I have 'fore I get lost in his embrace is that I didn't even get to finish the bloody song.


	8. Chapter 8

ANGEL'S POV

I kiss him as hard as I can. I never want to let go, because then he might start talking, saying that he doesn't really want me, that it was just a song. And I don't think I could bear that. But he's kissing me back with passion so maybe it did mean something. I'm feeling ready to rip his clothes off when I suddenly become aware of a crowd off people around us, some offended but most of them cheering us on.

“Can we please get out of here?”

“Yeah, I think that would be best.”

He's not in the least embarrassed; in fact he takes a big bow, collects his money and blows kisses, mostly at the offended ones. Then swings his guitar onto his back and slides one hand into my back pocket, laughing merrily at my discomfort.

“Come on, Peaches, don't be shy. Half the blokes here are bent.”

“We're not b…gay!”

“No, we're vampires. So who gives a fuck what they think?”

He's right of course. And I can't help feeling a bit proud of all the envious glances that are thrown our way. Not that I've seen myself since Pylea but I bet we make quite a handsome pair. So I slide my hand across his shoulder and bring him in for an extra kiss before we walk off.

“So where are we going?”

“Dunno. I s'pose we could go to my place but the rats are prob'ly having tea by now.”

“Rats?” I can't hide my disgust.

“Either them or my other pets.”

“Pets?”

“Hoy, don't look so prissy, time was rats were you're best friends.” And he smirks evilly.

“How about we just go to my car and head back home?”

He stops and looks up at me, suddenly looking insecure.

“Or if you want, we can just check into a hotel here?”

He relaxes and snuggles up to me.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

Of course he points out all the most expensive hotels and laughs when I cringe. I'm not quite sure what to think of him. He acts as if nothing happened and on the surface he seems fine. But every now and then I can feel a nervous shiver run through him and his laughter is sometimes so cheery it sounds close to hysteria.

SPIKE'S POV

There're all these thoughts in my head, but I don't wanna listen to them. Jus' feeling him so close to me. I need…I jus' really need him. I need him to hold me an' kiss me an' jus' bloody well fuck me 'til I have no brain to think with any more. It jus' feels so good having his arm 'round me. Oh bloody hell, can't he jus' pick one friggin hotel? Tight as a Scot he is, my Sire.

**Not like he's gonna spend his money on you.**

Oh, fuck. Not now, go away. Not bloody now! Can't you jus' let me have this one sodding moment, you rotten bastard?

**Now, now, why would I do that?**

ANGEL'S POV

We were chatting along nicely when he suddenly stops. He closes his eyes and his hands tremble. His mouth twitches and he shakes his head like in denial. Then he looks up, eyes blank.

“Sorry, mate. Suddenly remembered I have to be somewhere else. Another time, hey?”

And with that he slides from my arm and bolts in the other direction. I'm dumbstruck for a second before I chase after him and grab his arm.

“Spike, what's wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing's wrong. Everything's jus' peachy. I jus' need to get home.”

His shoulders are trembling and he avoids my eyes. He suddenly flinches and tries to break free.

“Please, Angel, let me go. I have to get home, I'm not safe. I don't wanna hurt anyone, please!”

“Spike, there's no way you're going to make it home to your place, you're about to break down any minute. Come here.”

We stumble into the nearest hotel, I keep him close to me and he presses his face to my chest, hiding the ridges and fangs I can feel through my shirt. I ask for a room a bit out of the way and luckily the 5th floor is almost empty. The man at the desk looks suspiciously at Spike.

“Is everything all right, sir? Is he sick?”

“No, no. He just found out his mother died. She was his only relative so he is taking it pretty hard. Can you please make sure no one bothers us tomorrow. I doubt he will be fit to go out until next evening.”  
  
“Certainly, sir. I will tell the staff.”

We make it into the elevator before his legs buckle under him and I have to carry him. The door to the room is opened with a card, and it takes me a while to make it work. Why the fuck can't people use ordinary keys anymore? When it finally opens I push through and lay him on the bed. He curls up on his side, gritting his teeth, shaking his head and trembling all over. I manage to take of his boots but he's too rigid to allow anything else. I try to lie down beside him but every time I come near him he lashes out at me. I even try to hold him tight by force but that only makes him more frantic and I suddenly realise that I have no idea what's going on in his head. I might even be making his nightmare worse.

In the end I sit down on a chair by his bed and take his hand. He grabs it violently and squeezes so hard I think the bones might break. His fingernails press into me, leaving crescent blood marks. We stay like that for hours. He mumbles and shouts, most of it incoherent but 'no' and 'please' makes up a good part of it. He mentions me, Buffy and Drusilla, quite a few times. Suddenly he goes perfectly still, opens his eyes and stares right at me, the hate in his glare devastating.

“Well, Angelus, what ya think of your pathetic poet now?”

But before I can answer he falls back and is captured by his nightmares again. I have a feeling his two sides are struggling for dominance and it might be that my presence is making his soul fight harder. Like he doesn't want me to see what the demon can do to him.

Finally in the early morning hours he calms down, his grasp of my hand slackens and he slips into deep sleep. I stand up and stretch my neck, before inspecting my hand. It's swollen and bruised, smeared with dried blood and I think at least one bone is cracked. But it will heal. I'm more worried about my boy's mind. I know I had some bad nightmares after I got my soul but they mostly came in my sleep and even if the memories of my evil deeds haunted me when I was awake I can't remember loosing control like that. I can't help worrying that something is wrong with his brain. Maybe because of the severe beatings he suffered, maybe because of the chip.

I undress him gently. Not that it matters because he's out like a light. It doesn't take long. He has no socks or underwear, probably by choice though, rather than poverty. His t-shirt is clean but worn thin. I fold the clothes on the chair, then put my own on top of them. This time when I slide in next to him he doesn't object. I even hear a soft sigh and he smiles in his sleep when I pull him close to me. The stress of the last two months takes it toll and I'm soon asleep next to him.

SPIKE'S POV

The first thing I notice when I wake up is the softness of the bed, that's when I realise I'm not home. The cool arm 'round me, the smell of family an' something poking my thigh makes it all come back an' I turn to look at him. He's awake, his brown eyes staring into mine an' he smiles.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah, thanks. Sorry 'bout that.”

“It's okay. This happen often?”

“Nah, every now an' then.”

He looks at me with concern an' I know he doesn't believe me. Never been good at lying, not to him. He's always seen through me, like I wear my heart on my sleeve. But on the other hand I've always been pretty good at distracting him so he'd forget to pry.

“So how 'bout that shag?”

“Spike, we need to talk about this. You can't just act as if…mmmm”

Okay, that shut him up. A bit hard to gab when you've got someone's tongue down your throat. He soon forgets he was gonna say anything at all an' kisses me back, arms pulling me tight, making that poking even more obvious. After a long time he pulls back, panting like a puppy.

“God, Will, I've missed you so much. Don't ever leave me again!”

I don't wanna talk 'bout that yet so I just kiss him again 'fore making my way down his chest, kissing an' nibbling. He tastes so good, a bit salty but mostly like cream. My suckling on his nipple makes him shiver an' moan an' I've a hard time not biting down hard. I move over to the other, tweezing the first one at the same time. Yeah, that did it.

“You like that? Got sensitive tits, Peaches. Taste good, too. How 'bout a lil' bite?”

An' with that I let down my fangs an' slide 'em into him. His scream of pleasure echoes in the big room an' prob'ly over the whole floor. I've forgotten he's such a screamer. I can't help laughing out loud, which makes the blood spurt all over his chest an' face. He looks a bit bothered by that until I come up an' lick it off. He grabs me an' kisses me hard an' long again then stares at me with gold glinted eyes filled with a hungry need that would have made me fear seriously for my life if I'd had one.

“William, I know what you're doing. And you better continue in a minute. But first I want you to listen to me. I want you, I need you and nothing anyone says or does is ever going to change that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, now shut up.”

“William, you're not listening. I don't care what Connor thinks or wants. He'll just have to deal. I won't let his childish jealousy come between us.”

Christ, is he gonna rabbit all night? Why does he have to turn simple sex into a discussion 'bout life, love an' the sodding ever after? He's only making me worry 'bout the bloody brat an' a worried Spike isn't a happy fucking Spike. So okay, 'tis nice hearing him say he loves me an' I know I love him too even though I'm not quite ready to say that yet. But all his talking's making my head hurt.

“I know we have to talk, luv, we're gonna talk, just not now, 'k? Can we jus' fuck?”

Bugger, now he's hurt. Poodle eyes, biting his lip. That very biteable lip. I take a deep unnecessary breath an' look at him tenderly.

“I'm sorry. Angel, I truly am. 'Tis jus' I've missed you so much an' if we wait much longer I think my dick'll fall off.”

He looks at me disbelievingly for a moment but then a smile tugs at one corner of his mouth an' he chuckles. The glint is back in his eyes.

“Now, that would be a shame. All right, we'll see to your little problem first, but we're gonna have that talk later, childe, and no argument.”

His Angelus voice makes me shiver an' I can't help closing my eyes, taking in his scent, for one moment lost in another time, before souls. When I open 'em again he's staring at me an' I know he's feeling it too. For a long time we gaze at each other, lost in a sea of memories untold. I feel my face changing an' he changes with me. I lick my lips an' then slowly tilt my head, leaving my neck open. Instead of jus' taking it, he tilts his own the opposite way an' his pupils dilate until his eyes are almost black. The sight is so erotic I can't help growling an' together we dive down for each other's blood.

'K, sex is good, but this… this is heaven. He's put all his feelings of love an' need into the blood an' I know he can taste it in mine as well. I press my hip into his an' we grind our cocks together. The touch is almost enough to make me come on the spot but I manage to keep back an' reach 'round to grab his ass instead. I feel him reaching for mine an' …oh, dunno when he had time to wet his finger but in it goes. My dick squeaks a 'sorry mate, no way I can resist that' to my brain 'fore it spurts all over our joint stomachs.

As the wave subsides my face rearranges an' I let go of his neck, licking the wound closed before looking up at him. He's smirking an' trying to look unaffected but I know his dick's bursting. So 'fore he can start his lil' talk I grab his bollocks an' give 'em a light squeeze.

“Now, you've taken care of one end, but that still leaves the other.”

I jump up, turn my back on him an' shake my lovely arse in his face. Guess that doesn't count as an argument 'cause he growls an' his hands clutch my waist. He uses my cum to coat his cock before placing his tip at my entrance. He eases himself in so slowly I can't help pushing back against him. He grabs hold of my hair to keep me still an' for a second I feel a stab of fear in my heart, memories tearing into me an' I can't help flinching. He lets go immediately an' strokes me, whispering sweetly in my ear.

“Sshh, it's all right, Will, it's only me. I love you so much. I'll never let another man touch you. You belong to me, only me. Mine, you're mine, my sweet boy, my darling William, my wicked Spike.”

He moves slowly, thrusting into me, his words relaxing me, his movements making me burn with need. Finally he's all the way in an' he keeps still for a moment, catching his unneeded breath.

“God, you're so tight. I've missed this so much. I've missed you so much.”

ANGEL'S POV

God, he's so fucking tight. I haven't fucked a man since the last time I fucked Spike and I don't want to count the times I abused him in Sunnydale. I could feel him tense when I grabbed his hair and I cursed myself for being such an insensitive jerk. Guess if those men were anything like Angelus they held him just like that when they raped him. The thought makes me mad with rage but I suppress it and keep my voice calm and soothing, telling him how much I love him. It seems to work because he relaxes and starts moaning.

When I'm finally all the way in I take a moment to compose myself, not wanting to loose control. The sight of his pale buttocks and back is so erotic, the slope of his neck, the slender waist that would make any woman proud. He's just so beautiful and for the first time I feel no remorse what so ever for killing him all those years ago. If I hadn't he wouldn't be here, he'd be rotting in some grave and I never would have known him in this or any other way.

“Stop brooding.”

“I wasn't…”

“Well, bloody well move then! Are you waiting for an earthquake or what?”

“Watch it, or I might take a break to have that little talk now.”

That shuts him up. For a moment that is. Then I start moving; thrusting in and pulling out, agonisingly slowly. His moans get louder but also more frustrating and I'm wondering how long he's gonna last before…

“For Christ sake, Angel, get a move on!!”

“I thought I was.”

“Angel, you cunting prick. Will you bloody well just fuck me? What do you want? You want me to beg? I'll beg as much as you sodding want. Just please, stop acting like I'm some prissy bird an' fuck me!”

“Beg? Begging's good.”

“Oh, I can't believe this! Please, Angel, I need you. I want you. You've got the biggest cock in Irish history, blah, blah, blah.”

“Now, that didn't sound very sincere.”

“I'll give you fucking sincere, you bugger. If you don't stop fart-arseing about I'll bloody well go out an' shag the first bum I see. An' don't think I won't 'cause…”

His high-pitch screaming when I ram right in his prostrate with all my force makes me chuckle with delight.

“You were saying?”

“God, Angel, do that again! Please, jus' please, Christ 'tis so good…”

That's more like it. He continues begging between screams of pleasure as I smash into him again and again, hitting that delicate spot. I can feel my release building up so I reach for his cock, which is leaking with anticipation and give it a good stroke. I can feel how close he is and when he stops breathing that one second before his release I let go of my own orgasm, growling a possessive “Mine” as his muscles milk every last drop out of me.  
When the waves of pleasure finally settle I roll over to my side taking him with me. For a long time we lie still, panting. Then I nuzzle at his neck, taking in the unique scent of his body.

“Ponce.”

“Spike.”

“Poof.”

“Spike.”

He chuckles, knowing he can play this game forever. But instead he tilts back his head and catches my mouth in a kiss. A soft sweet kiss that says more than any words. His tenderness surprises me after all the bickering and I raise my eyebrows at him. He just smiles and snuggles up to me again. We lie like that for a long time and I'm slowly losing consciousness when his quiet voice brings me back.

“I love you too, you know that, right?”

“I do now.”

“I'm not good at that stuff, you know. Telling people. 'Cept the slayer of course, I told her all the time, but then I knew she'd never love me back so it felt pretty safe saying it.”

“I think she does love you, in her own way. But probably not the way you want. Would you…would you go back to her if she did?”

Silence.

“Will?”

“I got the soul for her, you know. Thought that would make me worthy, that I could give her what she deserved. But as soon as I got it, I realised how utterly beneath her I am, that I could never be worthy. Then, of course, it was too late.”

“Do you wish now you hadn't gotten the soul?”

“Dunno. If I hadn't, would I be here? With you?”

“I don't know. Probably not.”

“So I guess it's all for the best, then.”

I'm not sure how to respond to that. If he hadn't gotten his soul back, he would probably still be back in Sunnydale, or gone somewhere else. We would have fought and hated each other if we'd met. On the other hand, I wouldn't wish the guilt and pain I know he's feeling, on my worst enemy. I'm terribly worried about him. I have to convince him somehow to come back with me. Maybe that demon doctor in L.A. can take a look at him, see if there's something else wrong.

By now he's breathing slowly, lost in deep sleep. I lie for a long time looking at his beautiful features, his high cheekbones, his long sooty eyelashes that cast a web of shadows under his eyes, his pink lips curling in a small smile, his soft hair, honey blond and curly. He's still too thin. I wonder how long it's been since he's been able to drink his fill. Probably not since the chip. Three years. Doesn't seem long compared to my hundred odd but it's the first years that are the hardest. The urge is so strong, the need devastating. The humans can't and don't want to understand it. Even if they ate three bags of salt and went without water for days it wouldn't even come close to it. Just the thought makes my stomach growl so I stop thinking about it and focus on my boy again. We'll need to get him some blood before we head home. If we head home. How can I convince him? Filling my head with useless arguments I finally drift into sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

SPIKE'S POV

Feels so good, waking up in his arms. My arse throbs, but in a good way an' the mark of his biting itches a bit. Makes me feel like I belong to him an' that's incredibly fulfilling. He must have slid out of me during our sleep 'cause I miss his presence in me. I wish we could stay like this forever, but I know he'll wake up soon, wanting to have his 'lil' talk'. I know what he's gonna say an' I really want to believe that all's gonna be all right, but 'tis not jus' the brat that worries me. 'Tis what I might do to him an' the others. To Angel. I know I can't trust myself, can't trust the demon. Even though I have no recollection of my episodes I can guess what's been going on. By the smell… an' the taste in my mouth.

“Stop brooding.”

WHAT! Cheeky bugger. I turn 'round to look at him an' there's a satisfied smirk on his face so I punch him lightly in the chest.

“I don't brood.”

“Of course not.” Bigger smirk.

“I bloody well don't. If you want to know, I was wondering when you were gonna wake up, you lazy git. Wanna go downstairs for some brekkie?”

“We don't eat and it's five o'clock in the afternoon.”

“Speak for yourself, I think I rather fancy some toast an' tea. Feeling peckish, must be all that exercise.”

“I'll give you exercise.”

Here we go. Now I jus' have to keep him on the subject.  
…  
…  
“Okay, Spike, you can't put this off any longer, we really have to talk. And I mean it this time. No, no, stop that. It's not going to work. Stop pouting that lip at me. Stop! Stop! God, you're biteable.”  
…  
…  
“Okay, you got me that time. But you're gonna listen to me even if I have to tie you up and gag you. You know I will. Got the bathrobe belts right here. I mean it, Spike! Okay, you leave me no choice… Now…damn, that's a lovely sight.”  
…  
…  
“Okay, you're good, I'll admit that. But it won't save you forever. Will you stop licking your lip like that! Where're you going? Stop that, stop, will you please just…stop, don't stop, don't stop...”  
…  
…  
Okay, that's four times I've managed to distract him. Pretty shagged-out by now, in the full sense of the word. Maybe I shouldn't have let him drink quite so much from me jus' now. Can't remember the last time I fed, 'cept for that blood-circle we shared this morning. Reckon that's mostly gone back into him now. Hang on, there's an idea…

“Angel?”

“Yeah?”

“Don't feel so good.”

“Spike, this time I mean it. Don't try to weasel yourself out of it again…”

“I'm not…'tis jus', the room is kinda spinning an' … there's two of you. Well, that's a stroke.”

“What? Spike, you stupid boy, when's the last time you fed?”

“Dunno. What day is it?”

“Damn it. I can't believe you. You know you have to feed. Fuck, I ran out so fast I forgot to bring any.”

“An' I'm stupid? I'm really tired, luv, think I'm gonna have a lil' kip. Okay?”

“Not okay, you are not sleeping now. You need nourishment. Here, drink some from me.”

“Okay.” Hihi…  
…  
…  
“Angel?”

“Mmmmm?”

“Want some help with that?”  
…  
…

ANGEL'S POV

When I finally wake up again it's been over 24 hours since he had his episode. I can't help wondering how frequent they are, if he's gonna have another one soon. He's managed to keep me here much longer than I intended, the sneaky bastard. But first thing first. Food. I gently move away from Spike. He's out cold, lying on his stomach, exhausted after all our activities. I call Lorne and after he makes me grovel for his forgiveness, according to him I was rather rude when we met, he promises to get us some blood and have it delivered as soon as possible.

I can hear Spike's eyelashes fluttering on the pillow but when I look at him his eyes are closed and he's completely still.

“I know you're up. No use pretending.”

He lies still for a moment longer before sighing and turning towards me. He smiles a lazy smile, stretches and cocks his scarred eyebrow.

“Always up for you, luv, you know that.” No kidding. Better stay away from the bed.

“Don't try that again. I'm having some blood delivered shortly. Until it arrives we're going to have us a little talk.”

His smile fades and even though he acts nonchalant and only pouts at me, I can feel him tensing.

“Spike, I meant what I said last night. Connor is just going to have to deal. I'm sure you'll get along once he's gotten used to you. He's just…”

“'Tis not jus' that.”

“Then what?”

He looks away, struggling with his emotions.

“Spike?”

“I'm not safe.”

“What do you mean? You've got a chip and a soul. How much safer can a vampire get?”

He looks up at me, angry and scared.

“I can't control him, me, the demon. When he takes over…I dunno what I do.”

“Okay. But how much damage can you do?”

“I don't bloody well know, do I? I jus' wake up an' I can taste human blood in my mouth an' sometimes…other stuff. Don't you get it? I'm not safe!”

“Okay, okay, calm down, I get it.”

“No, Angel, you don't! What if I hurt one of your pets? Or even your son? What if the chip doesn't work anymore? What if it doesn't kick in as soon as it should? An' what 'bout you? Don't you bloody see, Angel? I could kill you. What if I kill you?”

By now he's sobbing, his body shaking violently. I stand dumbfounded for a moment before sitting down on the bed and taking him in my arms.

“Sshh, Will. It's gonna be all right. I'll fix it somehow. Please, just trust me for once? You know I can't leave you here, especially not if you think you're hurting people. We'll let the doctor take a look at you, see if there's anything more wrong than just the soul. Just please, Spike, I can't leave you, don't let me leave you.”

I rock him in my arms, whispering soothing words, purring softly until he calms down. Then I take his face in my hands and look straight into his tearful blue eyes.

“Will, do you trust me?”

“'S far as I can throw you.” He gives me a small smile.

“Well that's not very far.”

“Nah, not with all those extra pounds you've put on.”

“Hey!”

He laughs softly before his eyes turn serious again.

“I trust you with my unlife, Angel.”

I kiss him tenderly, stroking his hair.

“Okay then.”  
…  
…  
Two hours later we've downed the blood and finally gotten dressed. He's robbed the mini-bar and stolen all things small enough to put in his pockets. When I open the door I see that he's left the guitar on the bed.

“Don't you want to…?”

“Nah, sounded bloody awful anyway.”

SPIKE'S POV

We walk down the hall an' press for the lift. When it arrives there's an old bird dressed in fur inside, carrying some fluffy mutt in her arms. She wrinkles her nose at us, the bloody cow, clutching her precious lil' Fifi even tighter. The lift's got mirrors all 'round an' even if I can see the poof panicking slightly I step in with a smile. He follows me reluctantly an' moves into a corner, trying to make himself as small as possible. Now this is fun.

The sodding mare shoots prissy glares my way, so I smirk at her, turn towards one of the mirrors, an' start fixing my hair with the comb I nicked, tilting my head this way an' that, studying my non-reflection carefully. She looks my way again, frowns slightly an'…there it is. The look on her face is fucking priceless. She glances at Angel with panic, an'…yeah, he's in on it. A glint of Angelus is in his eyes an' he calmly starts straightening his collar, staring into the mirror. The stupid old cow frantically pushes the buttons an' as soon as the doors open for the next floor available she's off. She's hardly out when we roar with laughter.

'Tis good to see him laugh. Reckon he don't relish in being a vampire too often. I do this stuff all the time, 'tis jus' so bloody funny seeing humans trying to rationalise what they're seeing. Of course, I usually ate them after that.

When the lift opens on the ground floor I keep my distance while the poof pays the bill. This place looks pretty expensive an' I can hear the huffs an' puffs from him all the way 'cross the lobby. When he gets back to me he's still inspecting the bill like he's gonna find an elephant charged to it.

“So, where's the car?”

“Just up the next street.”

We walk out an' I slip my arm under his leather jacket, tuck up his shirt an' let my fingers slide over his cool skin. He smiles at me an' puts his arm over my shoulder, giving me a quick kiss. Guess he's learning.

The ride back to L.A. is long an' boring. I can't find any decent radio stations an' for the first time I miss my stuff back at Sunnydale. I'll have to build up a whole new collection. Maybe I can get the poof to take me shopping? He's been complaining 'bout the state of my clothes. Bet I can slip in a few other things as well. Some music an' definitely some lube. My arse's getting rather sore.

At last I get him to stop an' buy me some fags an' a bottle of J.D. Well, actually I tell him to pull over an' I jump out to buy the stuff with some money I nicked from his pocket earlier. Along with some crisps, chocolate, gummy bears an' other stuff. He looks at my bounty like it's a heap of muck an' I can't help laughing.

“Are you really going to eat that?”

“Why not? Taste good.”

“I'll take your word for it.”  
  
“Your loss.” An' I pop another gummy bear in my mouth, 'fore taking a swig of whisky an' lighting up my first fag of many on the journey.

ANGEL'S POV

We finally get back to the Hyperion in the early morning hours, after stopping two times for him to throw up his disgusting snacks and quite a few times for other… activities. He's been fidgeting all the way, picking at the upholstery, drumming with his fingers, lighting one cigarette with the last glow of another. I know he's nervous but one more minute and I would have knocked him unconscious, soul or no soul. When I stop the car and get out he sits still for the first time, staring into the dark for a long time before flicking his half-smoked cigarette out the window and getting out.

“It will be all right.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Fred's been worried about you.”

“I tried to kill her.”

“Well, she's used to that, even by her friends. It takes more than that to throw her off.”

We walk towards the door but just when I'm about to open it he grabs my arm.

“Angel, you have to promise me something.”

“What? Anything.”

“If you can't control me, if I become dangerous… promise me you'll kill me.”

“Spike, no! I can't promise that.”

“I don't wanna hurt more people. Promise.”

“No.”

He turns around and walks away. I can't believe this. I run after him, grab his shoulder and turn him towards me. There are tears in his eyes but he's got a determined look on his face.

“Will, you don't know what you're asking me. I've already killed almost everyone else in our family. Don't ask me to give up on you. I won't. We'll find a way. I will not let you hurt anyone, not even yourself. And that's a promise.”

I can see he's struggling with his conscience but at last he nods and reluctantly lets me lead him back to the hotel.

When we open the door it's quiet inside. I can hear Fred's heartbeat in the office and the smell of coffee lingers in the lobby. We close the door, making enough noise for her to hear us. Her head peaks out around the corner and when she sees us her face breaks into a big smile.

“You're here! I'm so happy to see you. I had a hunch you'd be back this morning. Well, a hunch by the name of Lorne, but anyway.”

She runs up to us, giving me a quick hug before turning to Spike.

“Now, mister. Don't you ever run off like that again! We were so worried.”

She hugs him tight. He just stands there completely dumbstruck for a moment before hugging her back.

“I'm sorry, luv, I'm so sorry for what I did. For trying to kill you.”

“Don't worry about that, happens all the time. Do you want coffee? I've been trying this new blend, hazelnut and vanilla and even though Charles says it's girly I know he really likes it.”

“I'm sure it's great, pet. I'd love a cuppa.”

And with that they walk arm in arm towards the office. I can't help smiling. It's like he's always been here. No matter how obnoxious he can be, when he really wants to, he can charm the pants of a priest. Actually did a few times.

As I go through the last day's mail I can hear them chatting by the coffee machine. He's flirting shamelessly, making Fred giggle like a schoolgirl. I'd be jealous if I didn't hear the care in his voice and I know that her unconditional acceptance of him has earned her a lifelong friend. The door opens and when I look up it's Gunn, back with doughnuts. He stands for a while listening to them and I can't help tensing. I'm just about to tell him that Spike doesn't mean anything by what he says or does when he smiles and walks right in to them.

“Yo man. Welcome back. Keep your hands of my girl now or I might have to smash you up.”

“Charles!” She punches him lightly on the arm.

“Relax, mate. She's a bit too innocent for my taste. Like them more dark an' broody.” That makes her giggle again.

“Oh, you haven't seen her at seven in the morning then.”

“CHARLES!”

“What! I'm just saying.”

“Besides, Peaches might get a bit fangy. He's a jealous bloke if I ever saw one. I remember this one time in Paris…”

Okay, time to step in.

“Spike, I'm feeling rather tired. You?”

“Nah, not really, I thought I'd just…”

“Spike, I think you are.” I stare at him with my severest Sire look, but he just smirks and takes another sip of coffee.

“Jus' had coffee, luv. Feeling all jumpy. Got loads of energy.”

“I'm sure we can work something out.” I raise my eyebrows slightly.

He puts down his mug, jumps off the counter and gives Fred a quick peck on the cheek. I sigh with relief for getting him away before he says anything embarrassing. He's halfway up the stairs when he looks back.

“Be a pet an' get the lube from the car, luv. My arse's all sore.”

And with that he skips up and leaves me standing in the lobby with a pair of giggling humans.


	10. Chapter 10

ANGEL'S POV

So far, so good. He's been here for two weeks now. He gets along with almost everyone. He goes shopping with Fred, making her buy tiny tops that make Gunn drool and me look chastely away. He argues with Gunn about movies and music, they even play it loud in the lobby to compare different genres or whatever they call them. He calls Buffy every now and then, shutting himself up in the office, making sure I don't hear what they're talking about, occasionally looking my way through the window and laughing. It drives me crazy, which is why he does it. He's even managed to build up his relationship with Dawn again, telephone-wise. Apparently she talks to him about boys and clothes and what a drag it is being Buffy's sister. He listens sympathetically and comments when it's needed but every now and then he rolls his eyes my way, puts his hand over the mouthpiece and sighs. But I know he loves it. He really likes that little girl, no matter what he says.

Spike's even made some progress with Connor. The first time they met again he walked right up to him and punched him hard on the nose. After they were both done writhing on the floor in pain, he just said: “Now we're even” and walked away. I guess that bought him some respect, violence and strength being some of the few methods of arguments my son understands. They keep their distance most of the time. Connor's moved back into the hotel, but fortunately he chose a room as far away from us as possible. Not that I don't love him, but his looks of disapproval are tiresome.

Spike tags along for our fights. His speed and skill amaze them, showing them a whole new side of him, giving them a glimpse of what he used to be like. I love watching him, but more I love this feeling of completeness, to be fighting alongside someone on my own level. I can see why he and Buffy liked to patrol together. The rumour of Angelus's and William-the-Bloody's return spreads like fire, making some demons so scared they only have to see us to run the other way. The feeling of power and superiority this brings is a pleasant reminder of our old days together.

Spike's had a few episodes, about every three to five days. I'm getting pretty good at picking up when one's starting so we get into our room and lock the door. While he's lost he argues and fights with his demon, most of the time beating him but sometimes it happens that the demon gets the better of him. Then he attacks me. Occasionally just with words but most often with his fists and fangs. I've had to manacle him a few times, but I hate doing that because in between the old William peaks out and he's terrified.  
  
A couple of times we've been too far away from the hotel. The first time we were in a bar and he asked me to knock him out. When I hesitated he ran headfirst into the next wall. Carrying him bloodied and unconscious home is not something I want to repeat so we both keep a syringe of sedatives that would knock out a horse.

Sometimes, when he snaps out of it, he cries silently, until he falls asleep. Sometimes he rages, telling me I should kill him, that he's a danger to everyone. A few times he laughs it off and is unnaturally cheerful. But most times he just becomes very quiet. He stares out into the night, smoking one cigarette after another, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He's always cheerful around the others, throwing out humorous and rude remarks, being disrespectful to everyone's belongings, leaving empty bottles and stubbed cigarettes all over the place. But alone with me, alone with me he's mostly quiet. And that is not the Spike I know. His quiet depression worries me. His mood changes worry me more. I never know in what state I will find him. Of course my personality changed a lot when I got the soul, according to Spike I changed into a sissy hair-gel obsessed poof. But at least I'm stable.

The doctor took a CAT-scan of his brain. It showed a web of darkness around the chip. He couldn't say if it was spreading, we would have to come back for check-ups. I thought Spike would object to being prodded and poked but the silent acceptance he showed was a lot more disturbing.

Our relationship is otherwise good. We like sitting on the roof together gazing at the stars, occasionally reminiscing about the old days, occasionally fucking, but mostly just sharing the silence. The sex, well the sex is amazing. Having been alone for so long may be clouding my judgement but I don't think so. The manner usually depends upon his moods. When he's quiet or sad we take it slow, making time for tender kisses and loving words. When he's angry or hyper we go for the rough, fast and occasionally violent type. I have to be careful though. Certain actions or touches freak him out or make him stiff with fear. I'm never sure if it's because of what was done to him or because of what he had done to others. It might even be memories of Angelus and the thought makes me hate myself.

He says he's happy to be here, to be with me, but I don't think he is truly happy. No more than I am. I guess that's our common destiny. To never be completely happy because we know what we are, what we have done and that we will have to live for all eternity with that knowledge.

SPIKE'S POV

There he sits, brooding again, the big poof. Staring at me. Thinks I don't notice an' tries to look occupied every time I look up. Been doing that a lot lately. 'Cause of me. 'Cause I'm not the happy lad I used to be. 'Cause he reckons I'm a complete nutter. 'Cause he's worried I'll finally snap an' start killing 'em all. 'Cause he's scared he'll have to top me. Can't blame him. The same thoughts haunt my mind an' I've been close to doing a runner a number of times. But I'm even more scared of what might happen if I did.

I'm trying so hard to find the old me. Not the human William or the murderous William-the-bloody. But me, Spike. The happy, fire in his belly, loving unlife me. The partycrasher, the rocker, the fun me. I don't want to be this brooding, (yeah I said it, can't really deny it, can I), snivelling wimp. I hate that he has to tip on his toes around me when we're shagging 'cause one wrong movement makes the memories swallow me. I hate that we can never be relaxed together 'cause we're both waiting for me to go off my rocker. I hate that no one really trusts me 'cause 'who knows what the crazy vampire might do next'.

Angel says it takes time. He goes on an' on 'bout how it took him almost a century to find any purpose in life after he got his soul. Well, I can't wait a bloody century. An' I know he wasn't like this. Not this raving loony. No blackout periods when he didn't know what he did.

There's no one 'looking so I stand up slowly an' walk over to him. He's pretending to be doing paperwork but I can sense him tensing as I approach. I run my fingers through his hair, ruining his immaculate do. But he doesn't seem to mind too much 'cause he closes his eyes an' leans into my touch. I run my hands down to his shoulders, an' start massaging them tenderly. He sighs an' I can feel his stiff muscles relaxing, bit by bit. I blow lightly into his ear, run my tongue along it an' down to his neck. He opens his eyes an' scans the place but when he sees the others are out of sight he closes them again an' tilts his head to give me better access.

I nibble lightly with blunt teeth up an' down his neck. He shivers an' a slight moan escapes his lips. The sound is enough to make me hard an' I turn his chair until I stand right 'fore him. I straddle his thighs, still nibbling on his neck. I can feel his hard cock straining against his pants an' he nuzzles at my neck breathing in my scent. I'm jus' 'bout to slide a fang into him when …

“Angel? Oh, I'm so sorry…I'll just…I'll just go now.”

“Fred! I'm sorry…”

“It's okay, really.”

An' a red-faced flustered Fred stumbles out the door.

He looks at me, embarrassed an' guilt ridden.

“Spike…”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

I stand up, a raging hard-on not improving my mood. I'm bored out of my wits an' he has this stupid idea that he has to be down here even if there's bugger all going on. Wasting time on some bloody papers when he could be wasting it on me.

“You know I can't…”

“Save it.”

“Spike…”

“I said save it, Angel. I'm not interested.”

His eyes look defeated an' sad. Well, I don't give a rat's arse. Here I was trying to cheer him up but nooo, not with the pets 'round.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“It won't be dark for another hour.”

“I'll use the sewers.”

“Spike…”

“I need fags an'…bugger it, I don't need to explain myself to you.”

I'm so fucking mad I even take my old leather duster off the hook in the lobby where it's been hanging all those weeks. I really feel like being the 'Big Bad' right now. But more importantly, I really need to get pissed. No, more than pissed, so bloody arseholed I forget all 'bout this sodding soul an' my bloody poof of a Sire who doesn't even deserve to get shagged by the most talented cocksucker this side of the Atlantic.

'Tis not the first time he's turned me down. His lil' period of liberation ended as soon as we got back to L.A. He only wants to touch me in the dark, preferably in our bedroom, occasionally on the roof. Never where anyone could actually see us. Like they all don't know what's going on. Come on, they're not that daft. A few kisses if he's sure no one's looking, maybe a bit of groping as long as no one's 'round. I mean, what's the fucking deal? Not like Mousy an' Vamp Hunter don't kiss an' make out all the time. I'm always catching 'em hot an' horny. Not like I'm looking for it. They jus' have to get use to vampire stealth, that's all.

Anyway, I'm sure he reckons everything's jus' hunky dory. I mean, he's getting laid regularly after being a eunuch for all these years. Prob'ly thinks 'tis better to keep it to ourselves, don't wanna embarrass the humans by letting down your guard an' showing you actually feel something. Not like I'm asking him to have a shagshow with popcorn an' sodas. 'Tis jus'…jus' I'm fucking tired of being ignored when there're other people 'round. I had enough of that with Buffy. Okay to shag me in an alley, but if her friends were 'round, all I got was the usual abuse. Not that he abuses me in any way, 'tis jus'…jus'…okay, maybe I am a bloody wuzz. I jus' wish he could show me he isn't ashamed of our relationship.

Relationship…bloody hell, I'm in a relationship! Never really thought of that. Jus' that he's my Sire an' therefore we have it off. But you know what, 'tis a bloody relationship! An' that means I'm supposed to get flowers an' chocolate an' stuff. Or at least blood an' sex. An' some sodding respect. An' he's supposed to wanna show the world he loves me. Give me some hugs an' kisses. Okay, too much Oprah during my lonely days in the crypt. But still, 'tis right. Okay, so I don't exactly bring him flowers, but I did nick that box of chocolate for him. Which I kinda ate all myself. But more importantly, I'm always ready to kiss an' hug. Or shag an' suck for that matter.

What's that word again? Committed. That's it. He's jus' not as committed as me. When I love someone I love 'em completely. Which means I do show the world I love 'em. I would had Dru's name written in the stars if I could. I kept writing all that bloody poetry for Cecily. But this thing with Angel, 'tis jus' too bloody much like being with Buffy. Even if his pets know 'bout us, he never shows any affection for me in their presence.

So now I'm gonna get really hammered with all the dosh I nicked from Angel an' then…an' then…well I'll decide 'bout that when the time comes.

ANGEL'S POV

See what I said about mood swings? He knows I can't do stuff like that in front of the others. I have a certain status to maintain. They're used to me being a certain way and even if they've accepted our relationship with an incredible ease, because of course they know, I could just as well have 'I'm sleeping with Spike' written on my forehead, I'm just not ready to be open about it. I thought he understood that. He's just being childish and irritable… again.

“Angel?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, you know earlier. Did I make him leave? I didn't mean for you to stop…whatever you were doing…I just…”

“Fred, I should apologize. You shouldn't have to see that. He can just be so impulsive sometimes.”

“It doesn't bother me, I just felt bad for interrupting. Angel, Charles and I kiss and snuggle all the time. Does that bother you, because if it does, we can…”

“No, of course not. You know it doesn't. I actually think it's nice.”

“Okay.” She smiles sweetly and turns toward the door again. Then she stops and looks puzzled for a moment before facing me again.

“But it bothers you to let us see you…together?”

“No! Well… yes. Spike's just very…open about how he feels…for people…in general.” I can't believe I'm talking about this.

“Particularly 'people' he's in love with?”

“Hrm, yeah, I guess. Is he really that obvious?” I'm beginning to feel really uncomfortable.

“Not just he. You could just as well have 'I'm sleeping with Spike' written on your forehead. No actually, you could have 'I'm in love with Spike' because that's what you are, right?”

I wish the floor would just swallow me right now. They know we sleep in the same room, they know we are fucking, but baring my feelings, that's just not my…thing.

“I…guess…”

“Angel, anyone can see that. You don't have to hide your relationship from us in any way.”

“I'm not hiding anything.”

“No, you're just acting as if it doesn't exist. Isn't that the same as Buffy did, when she was dating him? Ignored him and acted like he didn't matter when other people were around?”

“No! Of course not, it's nothing like…oh, hell.”

God, how could I be so stupid? She's absolutely right. I have been acting like there's nothing between us every time someone is around. I never kiss him or give him any indication that I care about him, when we're in public. In fact I've basically ignored him, because every time he's near me I just want to jump on him and fuck him against the nearest wall.

“Fred, I never meant it like that. Of course he matters. I…I love him. He's not just my childe, he's my everything.” Did I really say that?

“I know. I know. But does he?”

“Of course he knows, I tell him all the time.” Don't I?

“When you're alone?”

“Yes…Damn!” Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“My guess is he thinks you're ashamed of him. It's the same thing that we talked about before he went away, Angel. Even if you tell him you love him he's never going to believe it if you don't act like it.”

“I'm just…I'm a very private person.”

“Did you kiss Buffy in public?”

“Yes. Not often, but it happened.”

“But every one knew about you and how much she mattered to you?”

“Yes.” By now I've got my face in my hands.

“I think you should go after him. He looked pretty angry. He even took his duster.”

“What? He hasn't touched it since…”

“I know.”

“Damn.” I'm on my feet and down in the basement as fast as a lightning. An angry Spike is a Spike looking for a fight. And he won't care if it's bigger and stronger than him as long as it's not human. Which means he could get hurt. Or killed.

By now I'm running through the sewers, following his scent. I track him to a liquor store where he apparently bought two bottles of whisky. He must have been pretty pissed off because shortly after I find one of them empty in the sewers, smashed against the wall. I also run into a couple of demons on my way. One is dead, the other's got a broken spine and I put it out of its misery. He's been making good progress and it takes me an hour more before I find him. By that time he's made it back to the hotel and is sitting on the roof, swinging his legs on the far side. I approach him cautiously.

“Hi”

“Fuck off.”

“Okay, I deserve that.” I lean into the wall, looking at him, warily.

“Yeah you do, you bloody wanker.”

“Spike, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… ignore you.”

He looks up, anger and hurt shining from his eyes.

“I'm sick of it, you know. I'm not gonna be a fuck toy anymore.”

“Spike, that's not what you are. You know that. I'm just not comfortable with us…it's just more convenient…”

“Convenient! You fucking bastard!” His nostrils flare and he swings his bottle at me angrily. For a moment it looks like he's gonna fall off the roof. I reach out to grab him but that makes him swing the bottle at me again and this time he does fall. I don't think I've ever made such a fast move before. I catch his ankle and for a moment he hangs there, head down. He looks down at the tiny cars parked below and then he looks up at me. His eyes hold no fear, only indifference.

“Not like it's gonna kill me.”

“Maybe not but it will hurt like hell. You might even break your back, again. Give me your hand.”

“Well, then you can keep me in your room, an' wheel me out when everyone's gone.”

“Spike, please. Let's talk about this, just grab my hand.”

He looks down, then lets the bottle go and watches it break into a million pieces when it finally hit's the empty street. Then he stretches his hand towards me, but as he does, his foot starts slipping out of the boot. At the last moment I grab his hand and pull him quickly up. He's shaking and I hold him tight while we both calm down.

“Don't you ever do that again, you stupid boy.”

He struggles out of my arms and steps back.

“Not a boy, you bloody poof. I managed well without you for over a bleeding century. I don't need you. I don't need your fucking pity an' your sodding morals. I can very well stand on me bleeding own.” He stumbles back in drunken stupor.

“I'm sorry. You're right. You're not a boy anymore. I just can't help seeing you like that, like my beautiful boy, my Will.” I'm trying to calm him down but that is obviously not the way because he only gets more furious.

“Well, I'm not. I'm not William. He was a pathetic wimp an' a loser. An' I'm not Spike either, am I? I'm a fucking nobody. That's what you think, admit it. Beneath you, right? I'm bloody beneath you. Come on then, say it. Everyone else has.”

“Spike, don't do this. You know I love you. Why would I think you were beneath me? Who said that?”

“Not me, it would never be me, I was beneath her. Jus' like I was beneath Cecily, that bitch. An' now you. I don't kill anymore, I have a soul, jus like you an' still I'm not good enough. Well, fine then. If that's' all I'm worth why don't you jus' bloody well keep me in the cellar? Chain me up an' fuck me when you feel like it. Be jus' like the old days, right? What you long for, innit? The good old days when I followed you like a bleeding puppy, craving your praise, licking your bloody boot if you told me.”

“Spike, please…” He's pacing back and forth like a mad man.

“Shut up! I don't want to be him again. I may have a soul an' I may be turning into a bloody wimp, but I won't be that again. Not your toy. Not to be shut out when someone else 's 'round. I won't! I fucking won't!”

He finally stands still, staring at me with fury in his eyes, trembling with such rage I inadvertently take a step back. For the first time in my life I'm actually afraid of him. Not that he will hurt me, but that he hates me, and the thought scares me more than anything.

“Spike…Will.” I don't know what to call him anymore. Who does he want to be? I get the conflict with personality. I'm not Liam and I'm not Angelus. But it took me a long time to find out who I wanted to be. I don't think he can wait that long.

He glares at me before throwing up his hands in defeat and drunkenly staggering back in, slamming the door behind him. I stand in the silence that follows and think 'how the fuck can I fix this?'

When I get down to our room he's not there but I can still feel him in the hotel. I finally find him in one of the rooms, one floor above mine. He's lying on the dirty bed, wrapped up in his duster, feigning sleep. I stand in the doorway, watching him for a while before I sigh and close the door again. I need some help.

SPIKE'S POV

I thought he'd never leave. Now I jus' have to make it to the bathroom 'fore…

Now that was a waste of fine wine. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I fucked up again. I jus' lost it. Didn't mean half of what I said. Well, maybe I did mean 'em in a way but some things are better left unsaid. I know he doesn't want to be the 'master of all' again, okay, maybe sometimes, but not permanently. An' I know he feels bad 'bout stuff he did as Angelus, but I doubt he thinks of our past relationship that way. An' I very much doubt he thinks of this as a relationship at all. Convenient, that's what I am. Again.

What the hell do I do now? I can't leave, he'll jus' come after me again. An' no matter what I said, I know I can't be on my own. I'm not safe. I can't stand this, I'm trapped an' there's no way out. No way 'cept one an' I jus' bloody well can't. I know I'm a bloody coward but I jus' can't do it. Wonder where the soul would go?


	11. Chapter 11

ANGEL'S POV

“…and I can't even get his name out before he starts yelling at me. He just won't listen to me. I'm totally at loss here. I'm not good at relationships. Not this kind. Not any kind. Ask Buffy, most of the time she didn't even know if we had a relationship or not.”

“Okay, first? Bringing up old girlfriends? Not the best way to keep your lover happy.” Fred smiles at me sadly while she pours me another cup of coffee.

“Well, she's his old girlfriend as well.”

“No Angel, she was never his girlfriend. No more than he was her boyfriend. That's the problem. He told me she once said that only reason she slept with him was because he was there, because he was convenient.”

“Oh, fuck.” That explains that little outburst.

“You need to show him that's not what he is to you. That he's more, much more. You told me he was your everything. Well, you need to show him that.”

“That's going to be a bit hard when he's not talking to me. He even moved out of the room.” Lying cold and alone on a dusty bed. Back turned at me. Waves of hate hitting me in the face…

“Angel, stop it. Stop brooding.”

Huh? “I wasn't…”

“Sure you were. Okay, how about this. You stay here and think of how you want to do this and I'll go up and see if he wants to talk to me.”

“You'd do that?”

“What are friends for?” And she smiles and walks upstairs, leaving me with my br…thinking again.

SPIKE'S POV

I must have passed out for a bit' cus there's a warm lil' hand stroking my hair from my face. 'Tis a relief from the cold tiles I'm lying on.

“Hey there.”

“Hi, pet.” My voice sounds hoarse an' my mouth tastes of barf an' blood.

“Are you okay?

“Yeah, I'm jus' peachy.” I try to stand up but I'm too light-headed an' grab the toilet bowl for support. Yuk, shouldn't have done that. She hauls me to my feet, an' together we stand looking at the bloody mess in the bowl.

“I never realised vampire vomit was so gross.”

“'Tis jus' blood an' booze. An' maybe some chicken wings…an' popcorn...” Whoa, my stomach does another twist an' I'm back at the floor, chundering the remains. When I'm done I lean my forehead against the tiled wall, wanting to be anywhere but here with her watching me.

“You done?”

“Think so.”

“Okay, lets get you up.” She pulls me up again an' we stagger to the bed, where she eases me down. She looks around an' smiles. “So this is your new place? Grey, dusty and smells bad. Reminds me of my cave.”

“Yeah, jus' like my old crypt. Real cosy.”

I've got a splitting headache by now. I lie down an' close my eyes. If I stay perfectly still like this maybe the pain will go away…

Then again, maybe not. I groan, right now the thought of falling off the roof is rather appealing.

“You know he loves you.”

I open one eye slowly an' look at her. She's sitting there with a sad smile on her face.

“Maybe. I'm surprised you do.”

“Come on, everyone knows.”

“Right, 'cause I follow him with puppy eyes.” I close my eye again, wishing for the blessed oblivion of sleep.

“Actually because he follows you with his.”

“Right, Angel the puppy, that's rich.” A big fluffy poodle maybe. The thought makes me chuckle an' she's probably thinking along the same lines 'cause she giggles.

“Poodle?”

“I was thinking more of a cocker spaniel.”

For some reason I think that's even funnier an' I can't help laughing but it chokes in my throat. Christ, now I'm crying in front of her. What ever happened to the 'Big Bad'? She strokes my hair gently as I weep my drunken tears. It reminds me of Dru an' the thought makes me cry even harder.

“I'm jus' so bloody lonely.” Blimey, I didn't mean to say that.

“I know.”

“You'd think I'd be all stiff-upper-lip an' such, being English, you know. But I was never like that. Always was a wimp. Was even bawling my eyes out the night I met Dru.” Dru. God I miss Dru.

“According to what you told me you'd just got your heart broken. I think that would have made most people cry. It's all right.”

“Well, 'tis wrong if you're a vampire, I'll tell you that. Always embarrassed Angelus, not to mention that bitch Darla, that I could never hide how…how I cared for Dru an'….”

“Angel?”

“Not exactly Angel then. Was Mighty Angelus, the Scourge of Europe. A bloody ponce though, even then.” I sniffle an' wipe my nose on the dirty sheet.

“Ponce?”

“Always worried 'bout what other people thought, poofy-dresser an' a social snob.”

“Oh.”

“But you're right, I loved him even then, the bastard. Should think I'd learned by now. Don't know why I thought it'd be different. S'okay, now he tells me, he loves me. When we're alone, in the dark, doors locked, windows closed, not a fucking fly on the wall to hear.”

“He feels bad about that…”

“Well, I guess 'tis all right then.” Even I flinch at the ice-cold harshness in my voice.

“I don't think it's you. He has… issues, loads of them, tons of them. Probably like five hundred years in hell of them.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Well, if a few years of being ignored by Buffy and Angel makes you feel this way, I'm guessing five hundred years being spat upon and told you're the lowest being that ever existed, probably makes a person rather…private. I guess you're not the only one with an inferiority complex.”

I never thought of that. Now she mentions it, Angel seemed more open with Buffy before Hell then after. Not that I saw that much of them together. But then again he treats me pretty much the same in public as he did a century ago. So maybe it has nothing to do with Hell or souls. Maybe 'tis jus' me. However I turn it, it always comes back to him jus' ignoring me when other people see us.

“Fred, pet?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm totally cabbaged. Do you mind?”

“Oh. No, of course not. Do you feel any better? About Angel I mean?”

“Dunno. I'll sleep on it.” An' I turn on my side away from her, closing my eyes.

“Okay. Sleep tight.”

“Night.”

ANGEL'S POV

As soon as I hear her coming down the stairs I jump up and wait impatiently.

“So?”

“He's lonely and he feels you're embarrassed about your relationship.” She pours herself a new cup of coffee.

“That's it?”

“I told you so. And oh, he's drunk as a skunk and sick as a dog. I think he's asleep now.”

“Do you think…we'll be okay?”

“I'd say it's just a lovers tiff but he's got a point. If you want to keep him happy you have to do something about those issues of yours.”

“What issues? I don't have issues!”

“Really?” She raises her eyebrows and smiles. Okay, so maybe I have a few tiny ones.  
…  
…  
He doesn't come down at all the rest of the night and when there's nothing more to be done I go to have my own rest. It's rather tiring keeping both daytime hours for the others sake and nighttime hours for the clients. Doesn't leave much time for sleeping. I feel strange and sad, creeping into an empty bed. I haven't slept alone since he came back. I never realized how dependent I've become on his company. I really have to fix this breach between us. The thought of him maybe leaving me is like a dagger in my heart.  
…  
…  
I'm not sure what it is that wakes me, not any sound because he's silent as a vampire can only be. He's standing over our bed looking down at me. I can see a glint of yellow in his eyes but otherwise his face is concealed by shadows.

“Spike?”

Silence.

“Spike, are you all right?”

“Never been better, Sire.”

The evil sarcasm in his voice startles me. I reach for the lamp but he lashes out and catches my wrist. His grip is incredibly strong and he doesn't let go.

“Spike, what's going on?”

“Thought we'd make use of the dark. You like the dark, don't ya Sire?”

“Stop this, what's wrong with you?”

“Nothing, nothing's wrong. Everything's jus' as it should be. You an' me an' the dark.”

Suddenly he twists my arm and rolls me over on my stomach, trapping my other arm under me. I struggle against him but he's showing strength I didn't know he had.

“Whose beneath who now, Sire? Can't believe the stupid wimp's been crying over you. So I told him, 'better take matters into your own hands'. An' since he wouldn't I thought I'd do it for him.”

Than it suddenly hits me. There will be no reasoning with this Spike because this time the demon is in complete control. Guess the day I dreaded has finally come. I finally manage to get the arm that's trapped beneath me free and swing it at him, twisting my body at the same time. He doesn't loosen his grip in the least and the bones are screaming in protest. I'm by now quite frantic and finally manage to kick him in the side. He stumbles back but before I have time to jump up he rams his elbow into my spine. I fall heavily down, banging my head on the bedside table. He holds my right wrist in an iron grip while straddling my back. He pulls my hair with his other hand, forcing me to bare my neck and he bites down savagely, draining me so fast and painfully that I soon loose my strength. When I finally stop struggling he loosens his grip and whispers in my ear.

“Beneath me, Sire. You're beneath me. An' I'll show you what that means.”

Before I have time to register his words he shifts and I hear his zipper, then there's just this blinding pain. He rams into me again and again, tearing me up. The pain is unbearable but I can still feel myself hardening and that's even more humiliating. I'm being filled with memories of my centuries in hell and I can't help releasing a small sob. That only makes him laugh and he doubles his efforts. After what seems like hours but is probably only minutes he roars as he empties himself in my bowels. He stays for a moment, shivering with the aftermath, but then he suddenly recoils and scurries off me, whimpering. When I look up he's sitting in a corner off the room, staring at me with big blue eyes, shaking his head, trembling uncontrollably.

“No, no... what have I done? God, what have I done?”

He crumbles in a heap on the floor, and hides his face in his hands, crying and stuttering.

“Bad, bad man. William is a bad, bad man. He'll kill me, he'll kill me now. Again, I did it again an' now there will be no forgiveness.”

“Will?” My voice sounds strangled and frail. I try to get up to go to him but I'm so weak I fall back on the bed. The only gesture I manage is to stretch my hand towards him but he's too lost in his own world.

“Will? It's all right. Please come to me.”

“ No, no…I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry. Never wanted, not this way. Be…beneath him. Always beneath him. An' now 'tis all over. All is over.”

He looks up and his eyes are filled with such despair. He staggers to his feet and looks towards the window. Then he sighs, zips up his pants and makes his way towards the door.

“Over. All is over.” And he walks out. I stare desperately at the open door.

“FRED!!! GUNN!!!” I shout with all my strength, but even if it doesn't sound loud in my ears it reaches them and they come running from their room, only half-clad.

“Oh my God! What happened?”

“Spike! You have to stop him, he's going to the roof. Hurry!!”

Gunn runs after him but Fred stays with me, uncertain of what to do.

“Fred, he listens to you. You have to stop him. Please, I'll be all right. Tell him I'm all right!”

She only hesitates for a moment before running after them. I take a few breaths and finally manage to get out of bed and crawl towards the fridge, ripping open a container of blood and drinking it down as fast as I can. It soon takes effect and I stagger out in the hall after them, grabbing my sweats on the way.

It takes me forever to get up the stairs but I can hear them struggling above me. Spike's trying to get away from them but every time he lashes out, his head is blinding him with pain. Fred's trying to reason with him, telling him I'm all right, that I'm waiting for him. As I finally get up to the top stairwell he's just shaken Gunn off and is reaching toward the door, a few inches from getting incinerated by the sun.

“Spike! Stop!”

My voice makes him freeze and he turns towards me. He's covered in scratches from the fight with Gunn and his face is twisted in pain, both physical because of the chip, but mostly emotional. We stand staring at each other.

“Will, it's okay. Please come back to me. It wasn't you, you didn't do it.”

Silence.

“Will, please. It wasn't you. You're not like that. You're good and kind and I love you more than anything. You're my lover, you're my best friend, you're my soulmate.”

His mouth twitches, but he bites his lip and turns towards the door again. He looks at it and then back at me.

“Angel?”

“Yes, please. Will, if you do this…what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to go on if you're not here with me?”

“You…you don't need me. I'm evil an' I do evil things. I turned on you an' I should die.”

“If you die, I die. If you walk out there, I will follow you. You are mine and I am yours and therefore if you decide to end your life I'll end mine.”

He stares at me, emotions conflicting within him.

“But I… raped you.”

Until now the two humans had been passive observers but his statements makes them recoil. Fred eyes me with such pain and Gunn looks like he wants to stake him.

“As I did you. You think I don't remember? I remember everything I did when I was Angelus. When I had no soul, when the demon was in control. You don't blame me for his crimes, why should I blame you for what your demon did?”

“But I enjoyed it. Even after I came 'round a part of me still enjoyed it.”

“I know. That's what makes fighting the demon so hard. He knows that even if we hate ourselves for it, the need to kill and maim is still so appealing. The memories of killing and torturing people, they're so horrible but at the same time we can still feel the thrill and joy those acts gave us. And that makes it twice as bad.”

Fred and Gunn look at me in horror. I've never revealed as much to them. They weren't here when I was having boner killing dreams, by courtesy of Penn.

Spike looks at me, one hand on the doorknob. We stare at each other for a long time in complete silence. The others fade from my view and I forget they're there. All that exists is he and I, blue eyes gazing into brown. Finally he lets go of the door and stumbles towards me. He grabs me with such force, like he's afraid that if he lets go I'll vanish. I lean on him, still feeling dizzy from the blood loss. He tilts his head and I slide my fangs into his neck, drinking slowly, accepting his begging of forgiveness. Somewhere in the back of my mind I register the humans slipping away, leaving us alone and lost in each other's embrace.

SPIKE'S POV

For a second I feel the usual happiness of waking up in Angel's arms. For a very short second 'fore it hits me. I scramble to my feet an' only jus' make it to the bathroom. Not much left in my stomach so it jus' heaves an' heaves trying to get rid of the guilt an' disgust. God, what have I done? I can feel the panic rising within me. I have to get away, have to go, have to go…but I can't get up, I'm hyperventilating even if I don't need to breath. My head's swimming an' the world's blacking out…

Something is grabbing me, holding me. I have to get away, have to…Then Angel's voice reaches me an' I realize that it's Angel's arms 'round me, rocking me back an' forth.

“Sshh, it's okay, calm down. Will, stop breathing.”

It takes me a while but finally the world brightens again an' I see him looking into my eyes. He looks so sad. I can't stand his gaze so I bow my head.

“Angel, I…”

“It wasn't you. Okay, Will?”

I nod, even though I want to argue.

“Can you stand up?”

I nod again an' get slowly to my feet, careful not to look straight at him.

“We have to talk.”

Another nod. He leads me back to the bed an' we lie down. He pulls me close, but my body is stiff an' I feel I have to start breathing again. But he doesn't let go an' in the end I can't help relaxing into his arms. Time was Sire's arms could be the safest place in the world. We lie for a long time in silence, I stare into the ceiling but I can feel him watching me.

“I'm sorry, Will. I've been treating you badly.”

His words startle me. I can't believe he's blaming himself for…

“That's not why…”

“I know. But it made it easier for the demon to overpower you. That's what he does. He uses your weakness for his own advantage. He waits until you loose the will to fight him and then he strikes. I told you, I've been doing this a lot longer than you.”

There's pain in his voice an' I can tell he's battling bad memories.

“Did you ever…”

“I locked up a bunch of lawyers with the rest of our dear family, just about two years ago. I didn't care if they lived or died.”

“But you hated 'em anyway, right?”

“Well, yeah. But that's not the point.”

“Hmmm, lawyers? Well, it's not the bottom of the ocean but still, a good start.”

“Spike!” But he can't help sniggering.

“An' your pets? They don't blame you?”

“Well, they were a bit miffed.” We both chuckle at that.

“No really, it took a bit of time to earn their trust again. And I had to buy Cordelia a bunch of clothes.” He sighs.

“You miss her?”

“Yeah, I do.” His voice sounds sad again.

“Were…were you in love with her?” Please, say no.

“I think so.” Oh.

“If she came back, would you…?”

“No.”

“But…?”

“Will, she's human. We have nothing to offer humans.”

“'Cept mind-blowing sex. Well, not you obviously, eunuch.”

“Hey!” He punches me lightly in the chest.

“Anyway, I don't think it will happen again, not that way.”

“'Cause we can never be happy?”

“Because no matter how happy I get, I now know the risk so perfect bliss is kinda hard to reach. But believe me, you sometimes make it pretty hard.”

“I make you that happy?”

“When you're not making me miserable, or annoyed or irritated or…”

“Hey!” Now 'tis my turn to punch him.

“But most of the time, yeah, you make me pretty happy. I know I haven't been great at showing it. Lousy, actually. But I do love you.”

“I know. That wasn't it. I never doubted that, not much anyway. I jus' thought…you were ashamed of me. 'Cause I wasn't good enough.”

“You thought I considered you beneath me?”

Why did he have to say that? The memory of what I did hits me again an' I start breathing rapidly.

“Will, calm down. You're not beneath me; you know that. You're not beneath anyone. Okay, maybe Mother Teresa.”

“She's dead.” I snort into his neck.

“See? How about the pope then?”

I can't help smiling. Always liked holy jokes, my Sire.

“Reckon he'll croak any day now.”

“Well, then I can't think of anyone.”

I snuggle up in his arms. I'm so tired, like I've been fighting for hours. He kisses the top of my head an' I can feel him inhaling my scent. He's always doing that, sniffing me. Can't blame him, I smell bloody good. Almost as good as he does.


	12. Chapter 12

ANGEL'S POV

We must have dozed off again. I haven't heard a squeak from Fred or Gunn. They must have decided to give us some time alone. But by now I'm starving and I know there's no blood left in my fridge in the room. Guess we'll have to get up. Shame really, I've never been as comfortable. My ass's stopped throbbing and Spike's lying in my arms, one hand thrown across my chest. He's breathing slowly, his eyelids flutter, but there's a smile on his face so I guess he's having happy dreams. I hate to wake him up but my stomach is growling.

“Spike?” I shake him slightly but he only snarls and snuggles his face deep into my armpit.

“Spike, come on. I've got some nice warm blood for you.”

He opens one eye and sniffs. “Liar.” And snuggles back down.

“It's downstairs. I bet Fred bought some doughnuts.” The eye opens again and he groans.

“Not hungry.” But I can see his resolution wavering and a rumble from his stomach disproves his words.

I slide from under him and get a firm grip on the sheets. “Last chance.”

“Huh?” And I tumble him out of the bed.

“What? Ow!” He jumps up, annoyed as hell. “You bugger.”

“Put some clothes on. We're going out.”

“Yeah, yeah…where're we off to?”

“Shopping.” That gets his attention and he looks at me stunned.

“What? Why? What?”

“Well, you know how I hate the mall. So you get to take me there and drag me to all the places you like, just to annoy me. How's that for revenge?”

“Revenge?” He looks bewildered.

“Yeah, your revenge on me for acting like a prick. So come on.” By now I'm dressed and heading for the door.

“Angel.” The nervousness in his voice makes me stop. “I don't think I can face 'em. Your pets.”

“It wasn't you.” And I leave. I hate to walk away from him like that but he has to do this by himself.

When I get downstairs they're both there, looking at me, like they don't know what to expect.

“Spike's coming down. We're going out.”

“Angel...”

“Fred, everything's all right. Don't worry.” I put two mugs of blood in the microwave.

I hear him coming slowly down the stairs and I look up at him with a smile. He's put on a pair of faded jeans and a blue t-shirt that brings out his eyes. He's wearing my leather jacket like a security blanket. He smiles weakly back before looking at the others. Fred greets him with a soft smile that makes him choke. She comes to him and gives him a big hug, whispering something in his ear that I can't hear, but her words make him hug her tighter.

Gunn stands quietly by. He's obviously not sure how to handle this but finally decides to be cool.

“Man, thought you'd never get up. All the good doughnuts gone.”

“Yeah, well, the wicked actually need their rest, no matter what they say. Anyway, Peaches can buy me something at the mall.”

“You're going to the mall?” He could just as well told them we were going sunbathing on the beach.

“Gotta buy him some new knickers, silk may be comfy, but 'tis not made for rough play.”

His words make them stiffen for a while, but then Fred starts giggling and he smiles at her thankfully. “You wanna join us, pet?”

“Hmm, I don't know. Can we buy tacos?”

“Why not? He's paying. How 'bout we check out the lingerie an' such. Angel jus' loves shopping lady things.” They giggle, conspiring thoughts obviously brewing. I groan. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

“Gunn?” I plead with my eyes, 'please help me out here'.

“Nah, you three go ahead. I'll take care of the business.” And he grins evilly my way. And I thought they were supposed to be my friends.

“Come on then, peaches, pet. Get a move on.” He gives her a quick slap on her bottom as she walks by him, making her squeak with giggles. She chases him out to the car leaving me muttering behind.  
…  
…  
“How 'bout this then?”

“Spike! Fred, please tell him I'm not gonna choose any kind of underwear for you.”

They disappear into the jungle of bras and panties, giggling like the loonies they are. Fred seems to think it's all right to have him choose clothes with her, she probably sees him as gay. But I know he's having a great time, pretending to have no interest what so ever in her half-clad body, touching her like a girlfriend would and winking at me, with a glint in his eye that would embarrass her to no ends if she noticed.

So far we've been into most of the fashion shops, buying tiny things with huge price tags. He's stocked up on his CD's and I groan at the thought of having to listen to them blasting through the hotel. My VISA-card is worn thin and I know the bill will make me grumpy for days. So how come I'm having the time of my life? Okay, so this was supposed to be torture for me, but he just seems so happy. Every now and then he walks over and gives me a big sloppy kiss, regardless of where we are or whose watching. Not that I care anymore. As we're strolling in the mall, looking for the next place to torture me in, he slides his hand in my back pocket and I embrace his shoulders, pulling him close. Every now and then he looks up at me and laughs before kissing me passionately. So yes, as tortures go, this one is pretty enjoyable. Almost getting too enjoyable. Or so my pants say.

They've eaten ice cream and tacos. Right now they're coming out of the candy shop, each sucking on a red lollypop. But very differently. Fred looks innocent as a schoolgirl. Spike's rolling his tongue around his, popping it whole in his mouth every now and then, curling his lips wickedly and cocking his eyebrow at me.

“Fred, you must be tired. Shouldn't we head home?”

“Tired? Not rea…” She looks at me, then at Spike and then back at me. “Yes. Very tired. They're about to close anyway.” And she turns around, walking towards the parking lot, her shoulders shaking slightly.

I grab him and kiss him hard.

“Easy, tiger. What's got you all hot an' horny?”

“Spike, we're going home, now!”

“This hard for you?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” And he turns around to follow Fred, wiggling his ass slightly as he goes.

SPIKE'S POV

Haven't had this much fun in a long time. Not since 'fore I got the soul anyway. Who'd thought William-the-Bloody would get his kicks out of shopping with a giggling girl an' a horny Sire. An' Christ, he's horny. Been trying to hide his front bulk for the last hour so I thought I'd make it a bit more difficult for him. The lollypop worked like a charm. He's practically drooling by now, trying his hardest not to grab me from behind as I wiggle my arse in his face.

When we get to the car I leave the front seat to Fred. That pisses him off. Since he can't see me making obscene faces in the back mirror I start whispering sleazy suggestions, so low I know he can barely hear them even with his vampire hearing. Only barely but that's enough. Fred chats contently in the front seat, trying not to get too affected by the hormonal electricity in the air.

As soon as we arrive at the hotel Angel scoops Fred out of the car an' inside, with me following very slowly, swinging my jacket over my shoulder. Gunn takes one look at us an' starts asking his girlfriend about our loot, ignoring Angel's flushed face an' my cocky grin. I stop to look in the fridge for some blood, pour it into two mugs an' place them in the microwave. Angel stands by, looking irritated as hell an' I know he expected me to go straight upstairs. I watch in amusement as Gunn peaks into Fred's bags, fishing up one garment skintier than the other. He grins happily until he suddenly realises who she went shopping with an' with a frown drops them back into the bag. I wink my eye at Fred who blushes an' I'm 'bout to fetch the mugs from the microwave when I catch Angel's eye an' he's looking exceptionally pleased with himself. What's he up to now? I hand him his mug an' walk slowly up the stairs, moving my buns with every step, feeling the burn of his stare on my backside. The smell of his arousal is driving me crazy but I suppress my need. He's following me a few steps behind when he suddenly turns 'round.

“Oh, Gunn? Just in case you were wondering, that pink one, it really does fit. Spike made sure.” An' with that he turns to me again with a satisfied smirk. Gunn's curses are the last thing I hear 'fore I run up the last steps.

When we finally get to our room, he slams the door behind us an' attacks me with kisses so forceful he cuts my lip an' the blood almost drives me off the edge. But I push him off an' lead him to the bed, putting my mug on the bedside table. Suddenly all his eager is gone an' I can smell a whiff of fear on him. I turn an' look at him, searching his eyes. He looks away, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, tension in every muscle.

“Angel? 'Tis okay. We don't have to, not yet.” The guilt that had left my mind for some hours is killing me now.

“I want to, it's just…”

“I know.” I feel like the most disgusting scum on earth.

“It's stupid, it's not like it was my first time or my hundredth even.”

His quiet confession shocks me. When did…? He sees the bewilderment in my face an' smiles sadly.

“Hell, you know.”

“I didn't.” But I should have. We've never talked 'bout it, not really.

“Doesn't matter. It's just… I guess last night brought back some memories I've kept buried pretty deep.”

If anyone handed me a stake right now, I'd kill myself. I have no idea what to say. I want to comfort him but I'm afraid I'll only make things worse. We stand by the bed in silence. I feel like we're standing at the edge of a cliff staring into an abyss. We can feel the lure of the depth, telling us to jump but reason an' fear makes us stay. Finally he sighs an' turns to me.

“Do you mind if we just…”

An' he pulls me down on the bed an' draws me into an embrace. I'm jus' so glad he hasn't rejected me completely I snuggle as close to him as I can.

“Angel, I'm so sorry.”

“I told you, it wasn't you.” He kisses me softly on the top of my head.

“I know, but I'm sorry for not knowing. 'Bout hell, I mean.”

“It wouldn't have made a difference.” His voice is flat.

“Maybe not yesterday. But I should have known anyway. You should have told me.”

He sighs again an' buries his nose in my hair. “I will. Someday.”

 

 

ANGEL'S POV

“Wake up, Will”

“No.”

“Come on, stop acting like a baby. You know we're supposed to see the doctor this afternoon.”

“Don't wanna.”

“Yes, you do. You want to know how we can fix your head.”

“Don't like that scan-thing.”

“Stop it. You're not two.”

“Don't care.”

Silence. He sits up in the bed, arms around his knees, chin resting upon them.

“Will, it's gonna be okay.”

“You don't know that.” He looks away, avoiding my eyes.

“Whatever the outcome, we'll deal with it, I promise.”

“An' what if it says it's killing me, or destroying my bloody brain?”

“Then we'll find out how to stop that.”

“An' what if we can't?” His voice is getting desperate.

“There is no such option.”

He gets up reluctantly and puts on his clothes.

“You're not going to take a shower?”

“He's not gonna scan me there, is he?”

“No, but I might.”

“Well, you'll jus' have to endure the smell.”

“Hmm, I actually like your smell.”

“So I've noticed. Sniffing me at all hours, like a bloody dog, you are.” For some reason that makes him giggle.

“What?”

“Nothing. Poodle.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Lets get this over with.”  
…  
…  
He's sitting on the exam table, swinging his legs nervously, fingers fidgeting, obviously dying for a cigarette. We are waiting for the doctor to bring us the results and the suspense is killing the both of us. Finally he comes in, his face unreadable. He puts up the x-rays, then turns on the light behind them. Even before he says anything I can see it's not good. The dark area is definitely bigger, spreading like black tentacles in his brain. I grab his hand and squeeze it lightly and together we stare at the pictures, trying to listen to the doctor's explanations.

“…so you can see…”

“How can we fix it?”

He looks up, offended by my interruption.

“Well, the chip in his brain is probably causing it, since it seems to stem from it's location. I'd say that if it were removed, his healing powers would probably be able to mend the damage.”

“So, remove it then.”

“I'm sorry, but I really don't have the skill to do that. This is very sophisticated military equipment. Whoever put it in, knew what they were doing. I'm not even sure it can be removed.”

His words make me want to rip his throat out, but a quiet “Don't” from my side make me constrain myself.

“Please, Angel. Lets just get out of here.”

“But…”

“Please. I wanna go home.”

He jumps of the table, all tension gone from his body. We walk out, me with the x-rays under my arm, him completely silent.

“Spike, we'll find a way. I promise.”

“Doesn't matter.”

“What! How can you say that?”

“'Tis how I get my reward, jus' like you. You get to live, I get to die.”

“NO! Don't say that. I won't give up on you.”

He stops and looks up at me, a deep sadness, but also complete acceptance fills his eyes.

“'Tis not your call, Angel.” And he smiles at me. I can't believe this. I've lost almost everyone dear to me. I can't loose him to. I don't care what he says; I'll find a way. I grab him and hug him desperately, trying to give him my strength, my health, my desire to hope. He hugs me back and I feel a slight tremble go through his body. Then he steps back.

“We should prob'ly head home. Your pets will be anxious to hear the news.”

We walk quietly to the car, fingers entwined, both lost in our own thoughts. When we get to the hotel he asks me to deliver the news, he wants to have a moment alone. I watch him go. All energy seems to be gone from his body. He's like a completely different person. He looks like a dying human that has accepted its fate.

When I tell the others the news, Gunn goes really quiet, but Fred hugs me and cries silently into my chest. After a while she dries her tears and sits down.

“How is he? How did he take it?”

“That's the thing. He did. He just accepted it and now he's waiting to die. He doesn't want to fight it, he doesn't want to do anything.”

“He's probably in shock.”

“I don't think so. I think he expected it and the scans only confirmed what he suspected. He feels…he feels he deserves it.” I choke on the words.

“No!” Fred is petrified.

“He says it is his reward. Mine is to live, his is to die. He hates himself and he probably sees this as his punishment from God.” 'God doesn't want you', she said, but that doesn't mean he'll forget you.

“So there is nothing anyone can do?”

“There better be, because I'm not letting him die. Guys, if there ever was time for research, it's now. Doubt we'll find anything in the old books, since this is not a mystical thing, only a technical one. Fred, search the databases for behavioural modification devices, who has them, how they work, theories as well as facts. Gunn, apparently other demons managed to escape from the Initiative, some of them might have this chip-thing, find them and how they're dealing with it.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I'm going to ask Buffy some serious questions about her former boyfriends military friends.” I head for the office but Fred touches my arm.

“Don't you think you should look in on him first?” She gives me a sympathetic look. She knows I hate dealing with emotional emergencies. I slowly nod and head upstairs.

He's not in our room, but I know where I'll find him. He's sitting on the roof, no bottle in his hand, no cigarette between his fingers. He just sits there on the edge, looking up at the stars.

“Hey.” He doesn't look at me just closes his eyes for a second before continuing his gaze towards heaven. I move slowly closer until I stand behind him, inadvertently inhaling his scent. He smells sad. I put my arm around his shoulders and he leans into my chest. Together we stay like that for a long time. Every now and then a slight tremor goes through his body, so small I hardly feel it. I run my fingers through his soft hair, remembering the last time the curls were this visible, the times when we thought we were immortal, that nothing could ever harm us. How wrong we were. I might still be immortal but that doesn't mean I won't die. If he goes I will.

“Guess we are brooding buddies, luv.”

“Yeah, I guess we are.”

“Maybe we should get t-shirts.”

“Or matching bracelets.” That makes him chuckle.

“Didn't picture you as a Friends fan.”

“A what?”

“Never mind.” He smiles and rubs the back of his head against my shirt. “You know, we should get cable. I miss the old shows from home.”

“I didn't know you watched TV back then.”

“Well, yeah. Drusilla thought the people were real the first years. Kept trying to catch them as they went off screen.”

“I'm sorry. I wish I'd been there. All those new inventions, they scared the hell out of me at first. I can't imagine how it was for her.”

“Well, cars freaked her pretty much out. Took me years to get her into one. She thought they were monsters.”

“Yeah, and planes, took me about 50 years before I managed to board one.”

“Oh, she loved planes. She thought she would see the angels. She still looks for them, you know, or one in particular.” I feel guilty even though he isn't saying it to accuse me.

“But I guess you weren't afraid off any of it.”

“Thought it all rather thrilling, actually. Couldn't wait to see what they'd come up with next. Crossed my mind a few times I might be eating the next destined-to-be-inventor. But, life's a risk, that's what I always say.”

“Yes, it is.” He tenses.

“Look, I don't wanna talk 'bout it. No use crying over spilt milk, as my mum used to say. I knew it was gonna kill me. I'm surprised it hasn't done it sooner. Guess ol' Spikey's brain is tougher than you thought.”

“Will, I told you, we'll find a way. I promise.”

“What if I don't want to?”

“What! If you start that crap about this being your reward again I'm gonna push you off the damn roof.”

“'Tis not crap! Angel, you might have atoned for your sins but I haven't. I haven't done a bloody thing to deserve this soul.”

“How about that you went and asked for it? I sure as hell didn't ask for mine. How about you working with Buffy, saving her life as well as the others countless times? How about you coming here, saving my empty life from an eternity of loneliness?”

“How 'bout all the people I killed? How 'bout trying to rape the slayer? How 'bout raping you? How 'bout…”

“Stop it! Don't do this to yourself. Why can't you see that you're so much more than that? Damn it, Will. If you don't want to listen to the demon vs. soul argument at least consider this. The Spike I know, the person that is you, would never, ever give up so easily. I know you don't feel like that person anymore but he is still you. And he has nothing to do with good or evil.”

“Yeah, right. 'cause Spike's such a nice person.”

“Yes he is. Spike is funny, he's a friend of his friends, he loves life, he drives everyone crazy with his loud music, he can be a sulking child and an insightful adviser. He loves leather, he smokes like a chimney, and he drinks like an Irishman. He loves with a passion, he's addicted to soaps, he flirts like a hooker, he kisses like a god and he fucks like …well there's no word for that.” I pause, uncertain of my emotional outburst.

“That's really what you think?” His voice is hesitant.

“Yes, well maybe not the Irishman part. We both know I could drink you under the table any time.”

“Yeah, right.” He snorts.

“Will you please promise me you won't give up? That you won't do anything rash or stupid? Okay, forget I said that.”

“Hoy!”  
  
“Anyway. Will you please just let me try to find a way to get that damn thing out of your brain?”

“I guess.”

“No guessing. I have to know that you'll hang on until we have explored every possibility. I'm sure we'll find a way, but if we don't…if we don't we'll do whatever you want.”

“We?”

“Yes, we, us, together. That's how it's gonna be from now, if you haven't already figured that out. All right?”

“Yeah… yes, all right.”

“I'm gonna go downstairs for some research. You wanna come?”

“I think I'll stay here for a while. Don't worry, I'll be all right.”

“Okay then. Just let me know if I can do anything.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now bugger off. I need some time alone with my fags.” He smirks and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette. I look back before I close the doors but he's lost in his thoughts again, absently blowing rings of smoke into the night.

When I get downstairs Fred is cursing at the computer but Gunn's gone out. I go into my office and shut the door behind me. This is not a conversation I look forward to.

“Buffy Summers.” Her voice sounds tired and I feel a tinge of guilt for making her day worse.

“Hi, it's me.”

“Hi!” Her voice brightens and the old feelings of love tug at me. “How are you? Is everything okay?”

“Not really. Spike's ill. It's the chip, it's killing him.” I blurt it all out while I still have the courage. There's a moment of silence and I can hear her breathing, her heart beating faster.

“How?”

“I think the electric charges are damaging his brain, that's what it looks like anyway. He's had CAT-scans and it seems to be spreading and he won't heal while the chip is still in place. We need to get it out.” I'm trying to hide the panic that I'm feeling, but my blabbering betrays me.

“He already tried that once. It didn't work. Apparently it's too fused in to be simply subtracted.”

“He didn't tell me that.”

“He wouldn't.”

“No, I guess you're right.” It still astonishes me how well she knows him.

“That military group, the Initiative, how can we reach them?”

“I'm not sure we can. Most of them were killed during that last battle, and after that the government shut it all down.”

“How about…”

“Riley? He's somewhere in the jungle, unreachable. But he told me off some ways to get in contact with his kind of people. I'll try them.”

“Thank you.”

“How is he?” Her voice is hesitant, I can hear the guilt is still plaguing her.

“I'm not sure. Actually his calm scares me a lot more than an emotional outburst would have.”

“He's calm?”

“He doesn't want us to do anything.” The pain catches me and I choke on the words.

“Well, we're not going to listen to him, are we?”

“No.” I can't help smiling at her enthusiasm.

“I'll get back to you as soon as I can.” And she hangs up.


	13. Chapter 13

ANGEL'S POV  
…  
The next few days are spent researching and battling the growing depression that seems to be gradually poisoning everyone. Everyone except Spike, that is. He's still in the same calm, accepting mood. Coming downstairs every now and then to say hi and drink a mug of blood, but otherwise keeping to himself. I don't know whether to hug him and cry or kick his ass and tell him to wake up. If these really are his last days I hate the idea of him wasting them like this, with this non-existence.

Gunn's tracked down quite a few Initiative escapees. But the news is not good. Those known to have been chipped are all gone. Most killed because they couldn't defend themselves against humans but according to rumours some just collapsed one day with no other sign of cause except excessive bleeding from nose, mouth, ears and eyes. No price for guessing what killed them.

Fred's been cooperating with Willow on trying to find any information about Dr. Walsh's work. Except for some early published ideas there's nothing concrete. Seems like an effort has been made to sweep all evidence of her researches under the carpet.

Buffy called and said she had tried all the ways she knew of contacting Riley and now she would just have to wait and see. Sounded like she had her hands full anyway, battling some evil she didn't want to tell me about.

I've caught Spike rubbing his forehead a few times but as soon as he sees me he stops. I don't want to pressure him but I think he is worse than he says. His episodes are almost every day now, but he doesn't want me near him when they come, which hurts me more than I admit. He just locks himself in his room and I'm worried sick that he'll hurt himself. So I lurk outside, listening to his ramblings and finally when he stops I go in, lie down beside him and take his unconscious body in my arms.

I feel so helpless. Usually when I face a problem it's something I can fight, with my fists and fangs that is. But this, this is totally out of my hands. I just wish…damn, I just wish I could find some fucking solution. I try not to show my despair in front of him but of course he knows. He just gives me a sad smile and a light hug before returning upstairs. Even the times we spend in bed are filled with such dark thoughts that I can't concentrate on anything else, which of course is also a fucking waste of precious time. Damn. I'm just so fucking angry. This isn't fair. This isn't how it's supposed to be. We're supposed to be happy, well not too happy obviously, but pretty damn happy. He's got a soul now, for fuck's sake, this is supposed to be our time. This is…

“Angel!” Fred's panicking voice snap me out of my misery. I run out into the garden where she stands, shaking with fear. Spike is lying back on the bench, blood running from his nose. God, no!

“He just collapsed. Is he…?”

“No, he would become dust.” I cradle his head in my lap, wiping his nose with my shirtsleeve. With no breath or heartbeat, and natural pale skin it's hard to tell how he is. No wonder she thought… The worst thing is she might be right. Even if he isn't dead yet, what we've learned so far indicates it won't be long now. Suddenly all my anger is drained out of me and the grief I feel is so painful it's like my whole body is wrenched into an ever tightening knot, twisting my stomach, crunching my heart. I pick him up carefully and carry him in and upstairs. The blood has stopped running and as I lay him down he starts breathing slowly, indicating that he's fallen asleep. I just stand and look at him, so peaceful, so innocent.

Apart from the clothes and lack of glasses, he looks exactly like the young boy I brought back to life all these years ago. As I had given him my blood and stood hidden, waiting for someone to find his body his innocent beauty held me in awe. I couldn't stand the idea of him being buried, but I was a slave to vampire customs, housebroken by my own Sire. So I made sure to wait by his grave, listening for sounds from the earth. As soon as I heard the muffled panicking breath, followed by the sound of fingernails attacking the coffin I dug through the earth, remembering vividly my own terrifying uprising. By the time I reached the lid he had already broken it, proving right away what a strong creature he was going to be.

When he saw me his eyes showed no fear, only a slight bewilderment. I helped him out of the earth and drew him into my tight embrace and still he didn't flinch. He only hesitated a moment before embracing me back, softly laughing with delight. I drew away and looked at him and his eyes were lit by that sparkle of life that has followed him ever since. Until he found out about his imminent death, that is.

A light tap on the door rouses me from my memories.

“Come in.”

Fred peeks in, red eyes, drawn face. “I know you'll probably not want to see her but she says it's important.”

“Who?”

“Lilah.”

“Tell her to get the hell out. I don't have time for that evil bitch.”

“She says it's about Spike.”

I look at her in disbelief for a moment before my anger gets to me again and I stomp out of the room and downstairs, Fred following right behind me. When I get down she is sitting on the couch, legs crossed, reapplying her make-up, seemingly uncaring about the crossbow Gunn is pointing at her chest. When she sees me she smirks and puts the lipstick and mirror back into her purse.

“Angel, finally. I knew this would interest you.”

“Get out! You're wasting your time.”

“So you don't want to know how to cure your boy?”

“How do you know about him? No, don't tell me; spies, cameras, bugs?”

“Actually we heard of some inquiries going on in the demon community and thought they sounded interesting. Seems your insolent childe is getting his brain fried.”

“And the reason you're here…?” The smirk on her face makes me want to bash it in.

“Isn't it obvious? I'm the Good Samaritan, here to bring you help.”

“Of course. Spare me your stupid plots. There is no reason for you to help him so why should you? Get out.”

“Oh, but there is a reason. The same reason as to why we haven't killed you. The souled vampire is supposed to play a major part in the apocalypse. Now, the problem is, which one of you is it? Well, I wanted to just flip a coin or better yet, just let him die since I know how much grief that would bring you. But unfortunately the senior partners were not quite as keen, so here I am.”

“And you think you know how to cure him? Why should I believe you?”

“I thought you might be sceptical so I brought you these.” She hands me a folder and then sits down, filing her nails, while I browse through the files. They seem to be medical files, but the patient names are strange to say the least. Obviously demons and the word 'behavioural modification' catches my attention.

“Are these…?”

“Lets just say that they lead a much more fulfilling life now. At least more fulfilling than the unfortunate humans who have crossed their path after they visited our lab.”

“You managed to remove the chips? How?”

“The Initiative doctors were not quite fit to be let out into society again after their career in experimenting on demons was terminated. Those few that survived the termination, that is. We managed to get our hands on the only two that weren't locked in the government nuthouse. They were quite happy to continue their researches in our labs. Pays a lot better and much cooler lab coats.”

“Have you done any vampires?”

“Two. Both undead and well.”

“And you think you can heal Spike?”

“Pretty sure. We must act quickly though. I don't know of anyone who's had a chip in them so long. It's better to start before the bleeding begins.”

“It's already begun.”

“Well, then I think you better get moving. The few we haven't been able to save were bleeding rather excessively. Once it starts flowing freely, they drain pretty fast. But it's your call.” She calmly studies her nails.

I stand and look at her for a moment. Her confidence and ice-cold indifference irks me to no end but I can see that she's telling the truth. I hate having to rely on her and her treacherous law firm, but I have no choice.

“Gunn, Fred, grab some weapons. We're going.”

“Man, do you think that's wise? You know you can't trust her.”

“She'll stay with us the whole time. If anything goes wrong, we can flip a coin on who gets to kill her.” I hurry up the stairs, satisfied by the slight whiff of fear emanating from her.

Spike has not moved, but a few drops of blood are trickling from his nose. I don't waste time in trying to wake him, I just lift him up and carry him in my arms downstairs. He stirs slightly and whispers my name, before falling once again into deep sleep.  
…  
…  
We follow Lilah's slick limousine in my car. For once I let Gunn drive since I'm not willing to let go off Spike. Not that he has any idea what's going on, but the thought of having to put his life in the hands of these psychopath doctors that hurt him in the first place, not to mention having to trust my mortal enemy, it just makes me want to be with him as much as I can, not a second should be wasted.

After about 10 minutes of driving we get to a small private hospital. No guards anywhere and no surveillance that I can see. Lilah is standing by the front door when we get out of the car.

“Getting slack on security?”

“The senior partners thought you might feel more comfortable with the whole procedure if it was done in a more neutral place. Of course this hospital belongs to us, but since we like to have some kind of privacy, at least when it comes to our health, we keep minimum security here. Of course there are cameras, discreetly placed, but no thugs.”

She walks in through the door, with us following right behind. Gunn has his axe, Fred a crossbow and I've got Spike. After a few corridors we get to an operation room and there two doctors and four nurses stand ready. I can smell fear from the nurses but the doctors are too deranged to be afraid. One of them is actually smiling.

After I have laid Spike on the operation table things get moving at an incredulous speed. One nurse shaves part of his head, and I can't help thinking, 'man, that's gonna piss him off'. After disinfecting the area and giving him a local anaesthetic the doctors get to work. The sound of them sawing through the skull jostles my nerves and I stand behind them, anxious to see what's inside. After some probing the smiling doctor huffs in triumph.

“And there it is.” And sure it is. A little metal thing, green like a computer chip, with claws like tentacles hooking it in place.

“The doctor he saw before said it couldn't be removed. Because it's rooted.”

“Well, that's just nonsense. The trick is to know how it works. Even though it was never designed to be removed, the same technique that makes it stick, also gets it loose. A scientific brilliancy, if I say so myself.”

“Just get it out.”

“Hold your horses, it just needs a little electric charge in the right place…there!” As he gives the device a small jolt the tentacles suddenly retract back into the chip, and the doctor takes it away.

“Fortunate for you vampires that you're the only creature I know of that regenerates its brain cells. Otherwise there wouldn't be much left in this one. I must say, some of those demons I've done this to, they hardly knew where or who they were anymore.”

His delightful giggle makes me want to snap his neck but first I have to see if Spike's really going to be all right. It takes them a while to put his head back in order but after that's done he's moved to a private room and they leave us. Lilah gives us a final smirk before she walks out, flicking open her cell-phone, no doubt to give her report.  
My 'pets' as Spike calls them are pretty tired by now and even if they're determined to watch over him with me, if for no other reason then to make sure Wolfram and Hart doesn't go back on their deal, in a few minute they're both asleep in their chairs, the stress of the last few days taking it's toll. So I'm left alone, watching my lover sleep, holding his hand and for the first time in almost 300 years, saying a silent prayer.

SPIKE'S POV

Bloody hell, my head hurts. Not that usual blinding headache I've had for the last few weeks but haven't told them 'bout yet, but more of an itching, throbbing, dull ache. It takes quite an effort to open my eyes an' then I wish I hadn't 'cause the light's too bloody bright. With my eyes shut tight again I'm 'bout to yell to Angel to turn off the bleeding lights but my throat's too dry an' I can't get up a word. For a moment I'm thinking I might be dead, but I can smell my Sire somewhere near as well as Mousy an' her man. An' a strange smell that reminds me of…blimey, I'm in a hospital! What the hell happened?

Better try to open my eyes again. This time 'tis a bit easier an' after a while I can make out my surroundings. The whole team's here. Sleeping like the dead. Angel's in a comfy chair by my bed, still holding my hand even though he's out like a light. He looks tired; actually he looks like he's aged quite a bit. Probably hasn't been feeding. Wonder what happened? Obviously I got worse. Last thing I remember was sitting in the garden, listening to Fred chatting 'bout government conspiracies. Getting a bit paranoid that girl.

God, I could use a fag. Can't see my jacket anywhere. Wonder if I could slip out without waking them. Look like they could use the sleep. I'm 'bout to try an' squirm my hand out of my lovers when the door opens…

NO! Fuck no! They've caught me again, those rotten bastards. An' Angel's let them. I can't believe this. Damn I'm bloody breathing again. Gulping for air, trying to shake Angel's hand but I'm too weak. Something must have woken him up anyway 'cause he's suddenly yelling at them to get out while he squeezes my hand harder.

“They…why…” My voice croaks, an' I can hardly get the words out between the gasps for air.

“Calm down, Will. Stop breathing. It's all right. You're safe. They got the chip out and as soon as I'm sure you're ok we're going home. I promise.”

“Home?” So I'm not at the lab?

“Yeah. Home.”

“Chip?”

“Gone. No more blackouts, hopefully.”

Well that explains my headache.

“Angel?”

“Yeah?”

He looks at me with those big brown puppy eyes, grinning like an idiot.

“Kill 'em.” An' why the hell haven't you already?

“You have no idea how much I want to. But it wouldn't be right. You know that.”

“They...did…this. They…tortured…me.” I bloody well can't believe this. His eyes show understanding but he's still shaking his head.

“I know. But they also healed you.”

“Just a…bloody...lab rat.”

“Probably, yes. But they're not sane.”

Like that's an excuse.

“Don't… bloody… care.” I struggle to try to sit up but I'm so fucking weak.

“Will, just stop for a minute. You were a few blood drops from dying and now you're okay. How about we focus on that?”

“'K?”

How can I be okay, when I can't move, can hardly talk an' I'm stuck in a fucking hospital.

“Yeah. No more dying, no more leaving me alone without you. God Will, I even prayed for you. Me! I haven't talked to God except to curse him for almost three centuries. That's how far you were gone. And now…now you're back. And damn you if you think I'm gonna leave you if only for a moment for something as trivial as killing a couple of psychos.”

“Not… dying?” I hadn't even thought of that. No wonder he looks so goofy an' happy, if somewhat annoyed.

“Not today you're not. But if you don't stop this nonsense and start at least pretending you're happy about it, I'll bloody well kill you myself.”

“Bloody…well?”

“Oh shut up!”

An' then finally I get what I've been waiting for when he kisses me with such passion that if I wasn't so evil I'd be sure I'd gone to heaven. 'Tis not until he finally lets go that he remembers the others. He's a bit embarrassed but actually he looks too happy to care very much. Fred gives me a soft kiss on the cheek, an' Gunn gives me big smile, but honestly I'm too occupied to notice them very much. I can't take my eyes of my lover. Since the fairies seem to be handing out wishes today I'd really like to be home right now, in bed, with Angel an' no one else anywhere around.

“Home. Now!”

“We have to be sure you're okay.”

“Peachy. Home. Now!”

“Okay, okay.”

He laughs at my eagerness but I can see he can't wait to be alone with me. Not that I'll be up to much mischief in this condition, doubt I'll be up at all, but I jus' want to be alone with him, having him hold me, whispering sweet an' stupid nothings in my ear. So what if it's mushy, don't care.

We don't even take the time to let anyone know we're leaving. Angel jus' picks me up an' carries me out to the car. I must have been out for at least a day cause 'tis dark again. We snuggle in the backseat while Gunn gets behind the wheel. Who'd ever believed the poof would let anyone drive his precious car? When we get home he carries me upstairs an' for once it feels actually nice to be the one taken cared of. I'm still too weak to move much so he undresses me an' then tucks me in.

“You're not coming?”

“In a minute. I think we need some nourishment first.”

He gets two bags of blood from the fridge but instead of pouring them into two mugs he heats one at a time an' drinks them both. I know what he's doing an' I can't help shivering in anticipation. After sliding down beside me he pulls me into his arms an' offers me his neck. As soon as I slide my fangs into him an' taste the first drops of blood I can feel his strength flowing into me. I can't help moaning with delight an' Angel's gasp for breath tells me he's enjoying it jus' as much. I can feel him hardening against me an' even my poor dick tries to react. Not enough to be of any use but that's all right. I drink slowly, savouring each delicious drop. An' the last thing I hear is Angel's breath quickening 'fore I sink into deep sleep.

ANGEL'S POV

When I wake up the first thing I notice is the soft breathing of Will, curled up by my side, head on my chest. He is completely at peace for the first time since he came into my life again. And for a few minutes I allow myself the luxury of watching him, marvelling at the second chance he's been given. I know that our problems are far from over. The chip might be gone but the soul is still in there. I know there will be nightmares and guilt-trips, mood swings and crying. But at least now I know he has a fighting chance to come out whole. And my boy is nothing if not a fighter. My stomach is rumbling but I wouldn't move for all the blood in the world. He needs his rest. Both to recover from the surgery, but mostly to give his tired soul some peace . The ordeals of the last week would have driven a lesser man insane. I just wish we could stay in this bubble of content, no more demons, no more nightmares, just him and me. I slowly stroke his hair, making sure not to touch the stitched up wound. It's already closed so I guess we can remove the stitches when he wakes up. Suddenly the miracle that he will be waking up at all catches me again and I can't help hitching a breath as a sob threatens to escape my throat.

“'Tis all right. Don't cry.”

His voice is soft and calm, no sarcasm. I look down and the concern I see in his blue eyes almost makes me loose it but instead I smile at him reassuringly.

“Sorry, didn't mean to wake you. How are you feeling?”

“Hungry.” And his stomach rumbles, proving his words.

“You're always hungry. How's the head?”

“Tired, aching a bit, but mostly okay. The stitches itch.” He reaches back to scratch then but I still his hand.

“We'll take them out soon. First thing first, food.” And I start sliding from the bed.

“Since when does food come before snogging?”

“I'm so sorry sir, forgot my place there for a while.” And I bend down and give him a soft good morning kiss.

“Damn right you did. Now where's my blood?” And he lies back on the pillows, smirking.

I laugh softly while I stroll towards the fridge. As I'm heating our mugs in the microwave I glance at him. He's trying to be his old self, but I can see how exhausted he is. Not that he'd ever admit it. The hard part is going to be keeping him in bed long enough for him to get his strength back. Well, I guess I know how to keep him in bed. Making him rest is quite another thing.

“Now I want you to drink this, but then you have to rest.”

“Oh, bollocks, I'm not sick anymore.” God, I love it when he pouts.

“Spike, you had brain surgery. Even for a vampire that's pretty extreme. And the last couple of weeks have been …hard.”

“Speaking of hard…” And he leers, pulling off the covers. Guess I walked right into that one. Talk about Freudian slip.

“Not yet.” I tug him in again, taking care not to look at his exposed…body parts.

“Oh come on Peaches. You know nothing relaxes me as much as a good blowjob.” Well, okay, that's true.  
  
“Drink up.” I hand him his mug and he takes it reluctantly, a look of, 'you haven't heard the last of this' on his face.

I study him as I sip my drink. The blood is giving him a bit more colour but he's still almost bluish white. Dark shadows under his eyes, sunken cheeks, slight shivers running through him every now and then. When he's finished he lays back on the pillows again, for a moment forgetting the Big Bad act. Eyes shut, smile gone. I sit down beside him, stroke his hair and start purring softly. In a few minutes he's asleep again. Guess that blowjob will have to wait.

I dress and make my way downstairs. Everything is quiet but I can feel their presence and find them sitting together in the garden. When I shut the door they look up, concerned.

“How is he?” Fred pats on the space next to her, offering me a seat.

“Very tired, but otherwise okay. He's sleeping again.”

“Buffy called. We told her what happened. She asked that you'd call her when you have the time.”

“Thanks. I will.”

“There's no business pending, nothing important you have to see to. So why don't you just leave it to us and go upstairs again? You know you want to. You need rest too, you know.”

“I'm okay. He's sleeping anyway.”

“So go watch him sleep, or have another nap yourself. It's okay.” She smiles and I have to admit that the offer is very tempting.

“If you're sure…”

“We're sure. I promise we'll let you know if the world is about to end.”

“Thanks. I guess I am a bit tired.” I stand up and head back in and upstairs. The whole world seems unnaturally quiet. Connor must be out doing whatever it is he does, beating up demons, I guess. I know I have been neglecting him, but he's a big boy. I'll make it up to him when things get back to normal.  
  
Spike's still sleeping like a baby. His arm is stretched across the bed and I have a feeling he's been searching for me in his sleep. I undress quietly and slip underneath the covers, drawing him into my arms. He stirs slightly, snuggling closer, a content sigh escaping his lips. I kiss him softly and settle down for what promises to be a wonderful night.

SPIKE'S POV

Guess I knocked off there for a moment, or a whole night. I can feel the sun through the drapes, warming up the air. My head feels a bit better. The stitches still itch as hell though. I know I'm not supposed to scratch, but bugger, I jus' can't stand it. Jus' a lil' scratch. Jus' a …What the …?

“WHAT!?!” It can't be! Bloody fucking wankers!

“What? What?” Angel shoots out of bed, game face on.

“My hair? What the hell did you do to my hair?” I know I'm patting my head like a lunatic, but fuck!

He stares at me like I'm insane 'fore he brakes into hysterical laughter.

“'Tis not funny!” You'd think my furious look would shut him up but it jus' makes him laugh harder. Damn poofter. You know, he of all people should understand.

“Stop laughing! I bloody well mean it!” I try to lash out at him but the sudden movement makes my head spin an' I fall down midway, rolling onto the floor. That shuts him up pretty quick.

“Spike, I'm sorry. Are you all right?” He lifts me gently onto the bed but I'm too pissed off to care 'bout his guilt an' punch him not too lightly in his belly.

“No, I bloody well am not!”

“If you're talking about your hair it will grow back, you know that.”

“An' until then what? Am I jus' supposed to wear a bloody hat?”

“Well, we could always go back in time and never let them take the chip out. You'd rather want that?” Okay, now he's pissed off. He stomps off to the fridge getting out a bag of blood an' rips it open an' drinks it down, not even bothering to pour it into a mug or heatening it. Than he jus' stands still, shoulders hunched.

Well, now I'm feeling guilty. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten so mad but bugger it! My hair!

“Angel?” No answer.

“Look, I'm sorry. You know I'm happy to be rid of the sodding chip. 'Tis jus'… I've fallen far enough off my pedestal as the Big Bad without adding this fucking insult. I probably look like a bloody moron, right? Right?”

“Actually,” he turns around an' faces me, “you look delicious.” He moves slowly towards me, every muscle rippling under his naked skin, a drop of blood glinting on his chin. I can't help licking my lips, already tasting it.

“So rather than be focusing on something we can't do anything about anyway,” by now he's hovering over me, the smell of him intoxicating me, “how about you focus on something we can do something about? Like that soon-to-be painful erection you've got under there.” An' he rips the cover off me.

“I could…do that” I can't help hitching my breath.

At the first lick I fall back on the bed, eyes closed, overcome by the sensation of his silky mouth. My fingers grab the sheets, I can feel the blood moving faster through my veins, an' I swear my heart almost starts beating. I really want it to last forever but unfortunately my weakened body doesn't listen to me. As I come with a shudder I can feel tears pricking behind my eyelids, finally shoving their way through an' rolling down my cheeks. 'Tis bloody embarrassing but the truth is that it jus' now hits me. I'm free of the sodding chip, I'm not dying anymore an' if nothing else goes horribly wrong I can look forward to an eternity with my ponce of a Sire. Countless nights an' days of shagging an' kissing, finally able to be my own man, an equal, not needing anyone to protect me from anything an' still having someone who'd do it in a heartbeat. An' that's jus'…God, 'tis bloody marvellous!

ANGEL'S POV

As I hold him, shivering and silently crying salty tears against my chest, I can't help feeling relieved. He's finally grasped the enormity of what's happened, finally understood how this has changed everything, finally seen the possibilities that lie before us. These are not tears of sorrow or pain, but relief. A huge weight has been lifted of his shoulders. The last years of desperation, of having to depend on others while suffering their scorn, of being an outcast wherever he went, despised and never thanked for his acts of kindness even if they went against every fibre of his demonic nature. The degradation and humiliation of being like a defenceless child in the hands of humans, enduring their abuse. Wake up every night to the same nightmare, unable to do anything about it and still trying to find some reason to go on.

When he finally falls asleep, exhausted both physically after the surgery, but more emotionally from all the overwhelming feelings that were so suddenly thrust into his heart, I stay awake, marvelling at the miracle of life, or unlife in our case. I guess all this has taught me to never give up. As long as we exist Fortune can turn its table at any time. Of course it can always turn it the wrong way, but then again, it might not. A small smile tugs at my lips, lifting first one corner, then the other. I know I look like a fool with this grin on my face, but I couldn't care less, and anyway, who's to see? I kiss away his drying tears, inhaling his sweet scent. His unconscious breath brushes against my skin, his fingers slowly curling in his sleep. His hair is soft and curly; his pale skin seems to glow in the dim light. I guess the only reason I got my name was that he didn't exist at the time, because there is no doubt which one of us has the face of an angel.

At this moment, with the trace of tears still lingering on his face, he looks as innocent as a three year old child. I guess that to anyone else than a vampire these mixed feelings of love, pride and lust towards someone that's your childe as well as you lover would seem pretty perverted. He is part of me, part of my blood, part of my heart and soul. He belongs to me, but even more so I belong to him. We are still Sire and Childe but for the first time we are equals. We are both master vampires, we both have souls, we have close to equal strength. It will probably be hard to stop being the father, being the one in charge, or trying to keep up the appearance of being in charge anyway. And I know there will be moments when he will need me to be his Sire, but there are just as likely to be times when I need him to be the strong one. I have my moments of desperation and weakness, when the horrors of both the past and the present become just too much for me to bear. Moments when my nightmares seem more real than anything else. For so long I have had no one to lean on, while the whole world seemed to be leaning on me. Forever needed to be strong, never show weakness to any of them because no matter how often they tell me I should be more open, more human, if I ever told them what thoughts are running through my mind they would turn away in disgust and horror, and never trust me again. But now finally I have someone who knows, someone who feels the same, someone who sees me like I really am, someone…

“Stop brooding.”

His voice startles me since he's still breathing, deeply asleep. He never even opens his eyes, just snuggles closer to me, murmuring something that sounds like “…bloody wanker”, before letting loose a loud snore. Even in his sleep, he's looking out for me. I kiss him one more time tenderly on the forehead before closing my eyes and slowly drifting into sleep.

fin

**Author's Note:**

> This is the very first fanfiction I wrote, oh so many years ago. First posted on a Spike/Angel Yahoo postlist, then on Livejournal, and now, finally, it's here on AO3. I remember I had such fun writing it but I never could have hoped so many people would read and actually like it. My writing style has changed a lot since then - the first POV would not be my choice now! - but I appreciate it for what it was and is, an important part of my fandom history, my very first step into fandom. Everything I've experienced and done since then can be traced back to this. So thank you, innocent shy Felis from 13 years ago, for daring to take that step into this wonderful place called fandom. And thank you, every single one of you in fandom who took me in and ensured I stayed. Here's to another 13 years. Cheers!


End file.
